Vinewood Series 1: Choices
by SweetlyDesolated
Summary: Harry Potter goes dark. It seems this is what everyone feared, and is thankful he never did. Or so they thought. First in the Vinewood series; begins at the Third Task, in the Graveyard. Pre-slash, slash HP/LV
1. Introduction

**Title:** Choices

**Author:** SweetlyDesolated

**Beta:** AirKnitter

**Pairing:** Harry Potter/Lord Voldemort

**Series: **Vinewood; prequel - list of stories in this universe are listed at the bottom of my profile page

**Rating:** T

**Warnings:** Light slash, blood

**Summary:** Harry Potter goes dark. It seems this is what everyone feared, and is thankful he never did. Or so they thought. First in the Vinewood series; begins at the Third Task, in the Graveyard. Pre-slash, slash HP/LV

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter and those who associate with him in that world; he and every other mentioned characters/locations/spells are the property of J. K. Rowling and the people she works with.

**Dedication:** KurtFabulous; thanks for answering the riddle correctly!

**Updates:** This will be updated once a week until complete, as it is too long to post in a single chapter. The fic is finished at this point in time.

**Key: **

"..." - Speech

+...+ - Parseltongue

_Italicized_ - Mental speech, charms/spells

Please leave a review!

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	2. Alliances with the Dark

"You could be great, you know," the man said as he paced around where Harry was tied to the grave stone. He unconsciously repeated what the Sorting Hat told Harry as the boy begged for Gryffindor over Slytherin.

The teen tilted his head to the side, staring up at Voldemort curiously. The pale, scaly-looking skin was pale, the red eyes glinting from the face over a slit-nose. He heard hints of a hiss in the man's speech. "And how would I manage that?" he asked curiously.

Lord Voldemort stopped his pacing and approached the bound Harry until their faces were inches apart. "Just join me. I won't lie to you, or withhold information, not like Dumbledore." He spat the name like a curse.

Harry stared into ruby eyes as he considered. He was much brighter than most gave him credit for, but between growing up with Dudley and his relatives, and then befriending the jealous Ron and studious Hermione, Harry had learned to hide his true self.

He considered the man's proposition. Professor Dumbledore left him with a family who abused him while growing up and told Harry nothing of his heritage. He kept secrets from Harry and endangered his life each year. His friends held him back, and his godfather was an overgrown child from thirteen years in Azkaban. Though the man killed his parents, Harry was sure he had a good reason; maybe he'd tell him.

The good side to the man's offer was knowledge, and the chance he'd get out of his relative's house. Harry had very high self-preservation, and he figured Voldemort of all people would help him stay alive. After all, it was Voldemort who ended up trying to kill him each year, and with a truce, all Harry would have to worry about would be staying secretive.

Voldemort remained patient as he stared into the emerald eyes of the teen that helped bring him back to life. He saw the boy's decision, and felt a smirk grow upon his face.

Harry took a breath and exhaled steadily. He told a smirking Lord Voldemort, "Yeah, okay, I'll join you. But I expect you to hold up your promise of knowledge. Now, can you release me? This statue is digging into my back."

The older man chuckled and waved his hands. The bonds holding Harry broke and the teen fell forward…right into his arms. He easily caught the boy, and was surprised at his lightness. A small blush dusted over Harry's cheekbones as he steadied himself with hands on Voldemort's shoulders. The man gently set him on his feet and returned Harry's holly and phoenix feather wand.

The Dark Lord ignored the slight tingles he felt when he had Harry in his arms – the boy was only fourteen for Merlin's sake! He led Harry over to his father's grave, where the large cauldron was set up, but the fire no longer burning. They found Pettigrew still mourning the loss of his hand. With an infuriated sigh, Voldemort slung a spell at the man's limb that cauterized the wound to stop the rat from bleeding out.

"Th-thank you M-Master," Wormtail stuttered.

Voldemort waved his hand, dismissing the rat. He turned to Harry, and their eyes met once again. "If you're going to stay, you'll need a mask," he told him.

Harry's eyes asked the question why.

"Do you really want Dumbledore to know that you're for the dark? You won't be allowed back in Hogwarts, and he'll probably try to kill you."

"Oh," was Harry's answer. "It can't block my mouth and nose, though," he continued with a shiver.

Voldemort knew Harry wouldn't answer, so he saved a moment of questions. Firstly, Voldemort pulled off Harry's glasses and whispered a temporary spell to correct the teen's vision – the mask wouldn't fit otherwise. "When you put your glasses on, the spell will end," he warned Harry, rewarded with a nod.

The man ran a finger down the teen's arm where Wormtail had cut him for the blood required by the ritual. Droplets collected on his finger as the teen hissed at the pulsing pain. A flick of Voldemort's yew wand resulted in the blood transfiguring into a half-mask, white in color with blood-red designs. "Since it's made with your blood, only you can take it off unless permission's given," the man explained.

Harry nodded his head and tilted his face up to allow Voldemort to place the mask on him. A buzz of magic was felt around its edges, and it stuck to his face with no bands around his head.

"Do you understand?" Voldemort asked, lightly tugging on the edges. Harry's face moved with his pulling fingers, rocking the boy on his heels. Voldemort released the edges of the mask but kept his hands on Harry. He ran his fingers through the wild, shaggy hair, willing his magic to lengthen it and add streaks of color, purple and blue. Finally, Voldemort waved his wand and Harry's clothing turned to that of a decorated black cape with black, leather pants, an emerald shirt, and flat shoes. The glasses were slipped into a pocket on the inside of the cape.

"I'm unrecognizable," Harry remarked when he was shown his reflection in a conjured mirror.

"What do you think; is it tolerable?" Voldemort questioned, turning to Pettigrew to call his followers.

From his peripheral vision, he could see the teen nod his head happily, still staring at his reflection. "It is, very much so, Voldemort."

The man ignored the fact the boy had dropped the title. At least he wasn't calling him by his hated Muggle name. "Give me your arm," he hissed at the crumpled Pettigrew, still mourning the loss of his hand. The idiot didn't realize he could have just cut off a finger rather than the entire hand.

The rat held up the smoking right arm. "Not that one, you idiot!" Voldemort exclaimed. He whimpered again but displayed the Dark Mark emblazoned on his left forearm. Wormtail hissed at the sudden pain of the calling of Voldemort's feared Inner Circle. Voldemort heard Harry groan from behind him, and turned his head to see the teen press a palm to his scarred forehead with an expression of pain on what was visible of his face. Harry's mask was held in his other hand, dangling from his fingers by the eye holes as he whimpered in pain.

Lord Voldemort released Pettigrew and went to Harry. The teen was still gripping his head, and Voldemort was quick to move his hands and replace them with his own. He felt the heat radiating from the rebounded curse scar. A murmured spell and a press of his lips to the heated area brought down the temperature to that of Harry's skin.

Wide green eyes stared up at him, questions in their depths; Voldemort gently replaced the mask over Harry's face, hiding the eyes momentarily. The teen couldn't voice anything as Voldemort's followers started to Apparate in at that moment. Where there had been lots of open space, there was now a large circle composed of black cloaked figures, all falling to their knees.

"Cedric's body and the cup!" Harry reminded him as Voldemort spun around, taking in the sight of being around his Death Eaters once again. There were many gaps in the ranks – he'd have to fix that soon.

Voldemort glanced around and saw the sprawled figure out of the circle. He cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the dead student and the tournament cup with a nod of thanks to Harry. Red lips parted in a toothy grin, and Voldemort returned his attention to his now standing followers.

Though he knew where most of the missing was, Azkaban or Hogwarts, he asked those loyal to him to see if they knew. "And what of Crouch?" he asked. "Snape? Karkaroff? Where might they be?"

"I knew it!" he heard Harry exclaim.

"Knew what?" he asked, drawing the Death Eater's attention to the teen's presence.

He saw Harry smirk. "That Snape was a Death Eater of course. He's much too mean to be anything else."

Voldemort shook his head fondly, a small smile upon his face. His thoughts exploded – how was he so fond of the teen in just a half-hour's time, when he had been trying to kill him for years? He studied the teen carefully as he continued to address his followers. He was quite happy to note that none of them knew Crouch was alive, but was pissed to hear that Karkaroff, the coward, had apparently deserted his ranks.

"A team of you will hunt down Karkaroff. My other two are spies, one at Hogwarts, and the other on Dumbledore. If we don't want Karkaroff to speak more names than he has already, he needs to be taken care of, and soon.

"I expect him dead within the week," Voldemort told them, running his fingers down his yew wand threateningly.

A few of the Death Eaters nodded, signifying that they'd be the ones to hunt down and kill the betrayer.

"Now," he began again, "I want you all to start pulling yourselves together again. We need more people in the Ministry. Recruit younger, ambitious people who wish to be Aurors, in the offices, places of importance. Lay listening spells on their belongings rather than their person; they're too noticeable. Talk to them after they have proven to not be reporting to others. The ranks need to be filled if we are to complete our plans."

The anticipation in the air was thick. With a gesture, Voldemort dismissed his followers. They each fell to their knees to kiss the foot of his robes and then Disapparated away. All but Wormtail and Harry left within moments, none wishing to face the Dark Lord's wrath.

Voldemort sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "Most of them are idiots; it'll be a wonder if anything's completed when I need it done. Wormtail, clean up here and return to the Manor." He stared around him and remembered placing the Notice-Me-Not spell on the dead boy. He removed it and stared at the _Avada Kedavra'd_ Diggory blankly.

Harry said, "We should send him back to the maze; I'm sure his parents want his body."

Voldemort switched his attention to the living teen; he ignored the scuffles of Wormtail as he maneuvered the large cauldron from the fire pit and erased the signs of a fire, all with one hand. "How will you get back to Hogwarts?" he asked.

He shrugged. "You could rough me up a bit, call Snape, and have him return me to the school."

The older man mused. "It's not a bad plan. I think we should tell him you are with me now and Obliviate him if he tries to run off and tell Dumbledore."

"That sounds better." Harry grinned, his teeth white in the near darkness.

Voldemort swallowed and glanced away. "Well, let's get back to the Manor. You can see how you like the place."

"Alright."

Harry refrained from using his magic as he figured it could be tracked back to the graveyard, where he didn't want to be found. Voldemort used _Wingardium Leviosa_ to levitate the Triwizard Tournament cup over Cedric's body, which disappeared a minute later as the portkey activated when touched to human flesh.

The most feared Dark Lord held out his right arm to Harry. "Hold on tightly; Apparating is much faster than walking."

Harry easily grabbed on to the man's arm, and experienced the smothering feeling of Apparating. One moment and they were in the cemetery, the next outside a wrought-iron gate. "I have to key you into the wards," Voldemort explained. He chuckled as the teen held on to him for balance.

He grabbed Harry tightly, as he was unable to hold tight on his own, and Apparated into the throne room, or the Grand Hall, of his father's family Manor.

~~~ooo~~~

The place was pretty decrepit, but Voldemort had many of his follower's house elves cleaning it. The ancient Manor was progressing in condition each day as it was strengthened by magic.

The wards included a Fidelius; much like the ones the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's anti-dark group, used on their headquarters, with the secret keeper of Nagini, as only he, and now Harry, could understand Parseltongue. The charm prevented those who didn't know the secret from entering, which was all of Voldemort's followers unless he called them through the Dark Mark.

Anti-magic-detecting wards lined the grounds as well, for Voldemort didn't want the residue to be tracked to an empty plot of land where the Fidelius could eventually be destroyed.

There were anti-Animagus wards, though Pettigrew was keyed in as he was a good spy, if nervous most of the time.

The anti-Apparition wards had the Dark Mark keyed in, or allowances at certain marking times for a Dark Mark plus one. He had to key Harry's magical signature in to the wards, as he planned on teaching the boy to Apparate and to be an Animagus, though Voldemort himself was unable to perform the last. He hoped to change that, and soon.

There were heavy Muggle-repelling charms around the place, as he didn't want them to question why the Manor no longer stood, even though it was never knocked down. One of these days, he would go and Obliviate the knowledge of Riddle Manor, but that would have to be when he had more followers – of course he'd have them do the dirty work.

~~~ooo~~~

He conjured a chair for Harry next to his own at the top of the dais in the Grand Hall. He gestured for Harry to sit as he considered sending a burst of his magic through the Manor for Nagini, his familiar and Horcrux. She was an overgrown Inland Taipan snake from Australia, but as one of the most venomous snakes in the world, he depended on her for survival as he waited for his return to his body. He decided against calling her, saving the meeting for a later date.

"What did you think?" he asked Harry. The teen was gazing at him, emerald eyes wide. He had removed his mask, and it was perched on his lap as if it, too, were staring at him. Voldemort was a little wary of the silent child sitting across from him.

Harry shrugged, and he relaxed. "I don't know; most people from before my time say you are excessively cruel, and yet you are only having Karkaroff killed because he defected. No one was punished tonight with the Cruciatus Curse, though I'm guessing you'll use it on Snape if he doesn't show up, or tries to run with me.

"It was pretty much like any normal meeting with orders, except that they crawled to kiss your robes. Why is that?"

He lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "One day, one of the tortured did that as a begging excuse for me to end the spell, and the others saw it and repeated it. Now, it's just normal. Usually, though, when we're in a place like this, the Death Eaters just genuflect and Apparate away. It's much easier that way. And I don't have to scrub these robes before I wear them again."

Harry smiled wryly. "So if you were standing and I was to kneel down and kiss your feet, what would you do?" the teen asked, a light flush defining his cheekbones.

Voldemort had no answer, struck speechless. He was saved by the arrival of Wormtail, who pretty much crawled across the stone floor, awkward with only one hand. The disgrace of a man held his arm on the bottom step of the elevated floor, Dark Mark displayed. Voldemort sighed and smiled warily at Harry. He descended down until he could press his wand into the Dark Mark, hissing, +Severus Snape+ to gain the single man.

He dismissed Wormtail and reclined his throne. "You should put your mask on again; we don't want him to know it's you until we decide," he told the slouching teen. "And sit straighter!"

Harry bared his teeth menacingly, and Voldemort's eyebrow rose at him. Harry smirked back and held the mask in place on his face until the blood magic activated. His hand dropped to his lap, where his fingers twisted together in seemingly impossible knots.

Voldemort found himself staring unabashedly at the slim fingers. With a minute shake of his head, he reached over and separated the hands with his own, cradling the small hands in his own. "Stop that; this waiting makes me anxious enough without having to watch your own nerves," he complained.

Harry smiled but complied. Neither noticed their hands remained together on Harry's lap. A faint sound of Apparition was heard in the distance, as well as hurried footsteps and panting breath. Snape entered the hall, his robes flying behind him. His mask hid his facial expression, but his nose was enough to identify him.

"Sseveruss Ssnape," the man hissed, his words falling into the hiss he dictated his Death Eaters in.

Snape glanced around him, eyeing his newly formed lord perched on a throne holding hands with a younger, feminine-looking male. He saw none others around him and proceeded to bow before straightening and pulling off his mask. The white shield wasn't blood formed, but it was shaped to his face and adhered by magic. Snape slipped it into a pocket and gazed blankly at his lord.

As if realizing the position he was in, Voldemort slipped his hands from Harry's, the skinny fingers chilling as they were wrapped by the open air. He stood from his comfortable chair, and calmly walked down the three steps to stand face-to-face with Severus. "What has happened?" he asked upon seeing carefully concealed panic within dark eyes.

"The Potter brat never returned from where the portkey took him; the cup returned with Diggory's body, but not the child, and the rest of the school is panicking about it. In all the chaos, I was able to leave unseen," he stated in a monotone voice.

"I see," Voldemort replied dryly. From the corner of his eye, Voldemort saw the teen lean forward in his chair, his emerald eyes narrowed and glaring at the messenger.

The movement also caught Snape's attention. "What is his purpose?" questioned him, jerking his chin to the sitting figure.

Voldemort turned his back on the spy, advancing up the steps. He paced around Harry's chair, his fingers running through the long hair. "We're not sure," he replied, "but he's mine and that's all that matters." Voldemort felt the small pressure of Harry leaning into his touch and his lips twitched into a smile. The teen was quite affectionate with those not trying to harm him, he noted.

One of Voldemort's hands traced down Harry's right shoulder and ran over the boy's arm until it reached his elbow. He gently pulled the sleeve up to display the knife wound from where Pettigrew freed his blood to bring Voldemort to life. "Do you have any of your healing potions?" Voldemort asked Snape. He trailed a finger up the length of the deep wound, collecting blood on his finger.

Harry ignored the stinging sensation, instead focusing on the hand carding through his hair comfortingly.

Snape noticed when Voldemort licked the blood from his finger, seemingly unaware, and returned his attention on the multicolored hair. "Yes, my Lord," he replied, dragging his attention from the small male's bleeding limb and focusing on the one in control of his Dark Mark. "I have a salve, not a potion, though," he stretched.

Voldemort waved one hand in a come-hither gesture. "Bring it here," he demanded.

Cautiously, Severus dipped his left hand – his non-wand hand – into the front pocket of his slacks and removed a small vial for deep wounds. He advanced up the dais slowly but surely, and stood stiffly next to his lord and the small boy.

The arm was lifted and held in his direction and Severus held onto the thin wrist gently, careful not to squeeze. He found it odd that the child had yet to speak in his presence, but let that thought reside in the back of his mind.

Snape uncorked the vial with his teeth and spat it to the ground, where it rolled once and lost its momentum. Quickly but neatly, Severus tipped the vial over the wound and watched as the salve poured out. Most would be in a thicker paste, but the one he had on him was designed for fast application.

A faint sizzle was heard as the salve's ingredients burned out infection, and Severus was surprised to not hear any sounds from the injured one. He glanced up into the face and saw the teen staring at him with emerald eyes, just like Lily Evans-Potter's. Snape froze where he was crouched and felt his eyes widen. The only other person he had ever seen with Lily's eyes was Potter, his ex-best friend's son. That meant….

Severus rose and stumbled back, catching himself before he fell from the steps. "Potter! What are you doing here? Why aren't you back at Hogwarts?" His breaths came in gasps, and Severus cursed himself for not asking after the boy. He had sworn to Lily before she died that he would watch over her son. Having Potter here was most certainly _not_ watching over him.

He watched warily as the teen pulled his arm into himself, running fingers over the healing wound. A trace of blood was left under his nails, and Potter, too, licked it up without paying attention to the movement. "I have decided that it is in my best interests to side with Lord Voldemort in the coming war rather than with Dumbledore. If you feel the desire to run from this meeting with your current knowledge to the Headmaster, you will be captured swiftly, Obliviated, and murdered for your spying. Do you understand, Professor Snape?" Harry asked. His eyes stared Severus down, focusing his full attention on the man.

"You're joking," Severus deadpanned.

"I can most assure you, Severus, Harry is not joking around."

Severus gaped at the couple. Voldemort ran his fingers through Harry's hair one last time and returned to his throne. He swiftly conjured a chair behind Severus, extending the dais a few feet at the same time.

"You're catching flies," Harry told Severus. The man's mouth closed with a snap as he processed that Muggle humor. Based on the Dark Lord's wry grin, he knew it too. Why would Lord Voldemort know Muggle jokes?

Severus sat in the conjured chair swiftly, still gazing flatly at his lord and the run-away teen. Potter pulled the white and blood-red mask from his face, clearly displaying his features to the room. He lifted his arm to his face and examined the wound. Dried blood was flaking away as the salve healed it. "That's going to scar," Harry stated.

Snape rolled his eyes. "No it won't, Potter," he told the teen.

Harry glanced up at him, and then returned his attention to the recent wound. "Yes it will; no matter what potions are applied, everything associated with Lord Voldemort," he told, nodding at Voldemort, "never completely heals. I think it has to do with the curse scar, but I've never been sure."

"Name one example," Snape challenged.

Harry pulled his sleeve up farther, displaying an oval of white, ribbed skin. "Second year; even phoenix tears didn't keep this from scarring," he replied.

Snape's eyebrows rose in surprise. "And how did you get that?"

Harry wondered why the man never knew, but figured Dumbledore didn't feel the need to share. A pity, too; Harry could have bribed the man with basilisk parts if Snape would ignore him in class. "A basilisk fang straight through my arm; it just nicked the bone when it punctured my arm."

Voldemort winced. "I am sorry about that, Harry. My younger self was a little…conceited…with his superiority of the Parseltongue language, and with snakes in general."

"And you are implying that you are no longer? What of Nagini, the most venomous land snake in existence today?"

A blush ghosted over Voldemort's face – the man blamed it on being in a new body and having yet to work all the kinks out – as he replied, "She was necessary for my survival."

Green eyes rolled in their socket. "Sure, and I'm gullible."

An eyebrow rose at the conversation. "And I'm Professor Snape," Severus told Harry, joining in the conversation. He'd have to question the teen about the snake's remains at a later date.

Harry crinkled his brow in confusion; Voldemort watched on in amusement. "But you _are_ Professor Snape – unless you'll allow me to call you Sev?"

Snape choked on his breath. "God forbid – if you must, it's Severus, never Sev. And you are gullible, Potter. This tournament proved that."

Potter's spawn glared at him. "Explain to me how I could have gotten out of that one, then," he told his Potions master.

"The rules are that a competitor must compete up to their grade level – nothing more is necessary. You could have easily tried something simple, like sending a hex at the dragon, and called it quits because you knew nothing else."

Harry frowned. "Professor Dumbledore implied that I should perform to the best of my ability."

"But you didn't take Slytherin preservation into accordance when you came up with your strategy, did you, Harry?" Voldemort questioned him.

He sighed and leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes and pressing his fingers to his temples. "I guess I didn't, Voldemort."

Snape let out a short laugh. "Potter doesn't have a single Slytherin bone in his body; he is entirely Gryffindor like his father."

Voldemort eyed him warily. "Do I need to get Nagini? I think it would be easier to kill you and send Harry with your body than to Obliviate you at this point."

The blood rushed from Severus' face, leaving him paler than usual. "Please, no, anything but the snake," he answered, slipping from his chair to his knees. He had seen Nagini kill someone before – the venom first paralyzed the victim, and then it slowly leached the person's magic from them. With the loss of magic, the victim died from shock. It was a painful way to go, if the Death Eater's screams were any indication.

"For your information, Severus, the Sorting Hat wished to place me in Slytherin. Only after I begged was I placed in Gryffindor. So I would say there are a great percentage of my bones existing with Slytherin tendencies."

Severus was dumbstruck. Potter was almost placed in his house? He was about to ask why the boy felt the need to not enter Slytherin when his lord spoke again. "Well, Severus, are you going to help take part in deceiving Dumbledore, or do I have to kill you?"

Snape bowed his head and lifted it, eyes connecting with his Lord's. He let the man into his mind, feeling the Dark Lord slide around his shields and protections until he could see the truth. A few minutes later and the presence leeched from his mind until his thoughts were his own again. "I'll help you, my Lord. What do you wish me to do?"

"Well, for once you are truthful, Severus." To Harry, Voldemort said, "That is a form of magic called Legilimency, where one invades the mind of someone else. The opposition and protection to Legilimency, of which Dumbledore also excels at, is called Occlumency, where one builds a shelter in their mind, something to hide their thoughts." Harry nodded and absorbed the information. "I know Severus has a few books that should help you on the subject so Dumbledore isn't able to breech your mind. Give them to him and explain anything not clearly understood," he ordered the Potions Master.

He then grinned at Severus, and to Snape, it looked out of place on the snakelike face. "I'll need your help roughing Harry up. You can return with him and claim you rescued him from a deep cut, that I left him to bleed out over my father's grave. That will explain the potion on his arm, and you can claim that it was much deeper, nearly to the bone, and that the artery was slashed." He turned to Harry. "I'll be picking you up this summer, so give them some excuse about not joining that family over the vacation. I'll see you in eleven days; you'll stay with your relatives for a night and I'll send someone, most likely Severus, to pick you up on the fifth."

Harry glanced between the two of them for a time, processing the plan and deciding whether his masks would be able to keep up with the challenge. "Okay, I'll do it." He was hesitant, but Harry knew it was better for him to return and not be suspected than to not and have Dumbledore and the rest after him for eternity, or pretty close to it anyway.

Snape suddenly smirked. "You'll have to Crucio him, my Lord. That is what you used when you were in control in previous years; if Dumbledore thinks you haven't changed, he won't think too deeply in the fact I managed to get Potter back alive." Sure, Potter was dark now, but Snape still hated the incompetent boy.

Voldemort glared into space as Harry glared at Snape, distaste obvious in his eyes. "I've seen what that spell does; Viktor used it on Fleur in the maze. I'd rather not have it done to me, thank-you-very-much."

The ruby-eyed man sighed and thumped his head on the back of his throne. "He's right, Harry. I'll save it for last so you can be healed immediately, but you need the spell residue on you in order for it not to seem unlikely that I left you to die without torture."

Harry pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and thrusting his chin into the air. Voldemort sighed and stood, walking and then crouching next to the protesting teen. Snape couldn't hear what the man whispered to the teen.

+Do you really want Dumbledore to be suspicious?+ Voldemort hissed to Harry. He used Parseltongue since Severus couldn't understand it, but spoke lowly as it was a private matter. +If he's suspicious, he'll have people guarding your house, and I won't be able to take you and do whatever you want. Does living with the Muggles the entire summer seem like an enjoyable experience? If the dislike of them you've expressed is any indication, living with them is much like my history at the orphanage.+

The sibilant speech ran over Harry's skin, leaving him surprised at the audacity Voldemort displayed. He was certainly possessive, that was sure, especially if he didn't want Harry to be controlled by the old man and his friends. +Orphanage?+ he questioned. Harry dropped his chin and unfolded his arms, laying one hand on one of Voldemort's that the man used to steady his crouch. Voldemort's hand flipped and held on to Harry's, a gentle gesture.

+I'll explain that over the summer if you subject to the curse for a minute,+ Voldemort returned.

Harry closed his eyes. +Fine, I'll do it,+ he told the man. +But if I'm under for over a minute, I'll be quite angry with you.+

"Good boy," Voldemort murmured. He ran his unoccupied hand through Harry's hair, dispelling the glamour. He removed the glasses from their pocket and slipped them over Harry's eyes. The man took the abandoned mask and placed it in one of his own pockets; a snap of his fingers removed the transfiguration from Harry's clothes, turning them into the competitor's garb once again.

+Come along, Harry,+ Voldemort told him. The duo stood, Voldemort holding Harry's hand comfortingly. The teen followed the man with minimum resistance, and kept his face down even as the man dismissed Snape's and his chairs and led him from the dais.

Snape followed them, eyeing their twined hands. This was certainly something he had not thought of when he felt his lord's return. His master hissed again once they were outside and standing in a grassy area, and Potter sat on the ground and laid back. Severus figured the man had told him to lie down as it was painful to fall when in the throes of the Cruciatus curse.

Voldemort brought out his wand and pointed it at Harry, apology in his eyes. With a murmured word, a red light shot from the tip and collided with Harry.

The teen jackknifed into the air, only his heels and head touching the ground. He made not a sound as the curse tortured him, but succeeded in biting through his lip. Blood dribbled from the wound as his arched back caved, leaving him lying hopeless on the ground, still silent.

Voldemort alternated between watching Harry and a minute-glass held in one hand. Once every particle of sand fell into the bottom bulb, Voldemort, sliding the miniature glass into his robe pocket, canceled the curse and fell to his knees next to the prone form of Harry. The man waved Snape to his side, the other prepared with Cruciatus countering potions. Voldemort rubbed the blood on Harry's chin with the fingers of his left hand. He smeared it into the earth, murmuring the Parseltongue words that would add the teen to his wards. He helped Severus hold the teen's mouth open enough to slosh the potions in and rubbed Harry's throat to promote swallowing.

Harry gagged as the taste assaulted his tongue and burned at his bitten-through lip, but the jarring pain in his muscles started to fade. He kept his eyes closed as he waited for the potion to numb him to the majority of the pain.

+The Cruciatus Curse targets the nerves and pain receptors in the body, essentially frying them. The pain is said to have sent many to madness. Neville Longbottom's parents are proof of this,+ Voldemort stated. Harry's head was laid in his lap as Voldemort's fingers carded through the soft hair soothingly.

Harry's eyes opened, staring into the upside-down ones of Voldemort. +What about Neville's parents?+ he asked, curious.

Red eyes darted away from Harry's face and back again. +The Lestranges, on my orders, attacked the Longbottoms the same night I went after your family, as he was also a candidate for the prophecy child. Rather than killing them with a simple _Avada Kedavra_, the parents were tortured under the Cruciatus until their minds broke. They live in St. Mungo's, the Wizarding hospital, as they have no awareness of who or where they are.+

Harry shifted his head in a slight nod. That explained why Neville reacted so strongly when faced with the curse in Defense class.

+Are you able to return yet, Harry?+ Voldemort asked him, concern evident in his hisses, if not his expressions.

Harry sighed. +I suppose, though I do protest against doing this, Voldemort.+

The man smirked back at him. +I know, but it's only eleven days until you will be here again. Just go back with Severus, and he will come and get you from those relatives of yours.+

A frown grew upon Harry's face. He scrambled awkwardly on the ground before finally managing to roll over to his knees and then push himself to his feet. He extended his hand to a smirking Voldemort, and helped pull the larger male to his feet.

+Who was Crouch?+ he asked quickly, remembering the conversation during the meeting that had introduced to him the idea of Professor Snape as a Death Eater.

Voldemort shrugged. +He's a Death Eater who's been stationed at Hogwarts. Severus has no clue he's there; he's my second spy incase Severus turned out to be on Dumbledore's side before this night.+

Harry tilted his head to the side. +So I know him then?+ He and Voldemort started walking back to the path from the grassy area he was tortured on. Snape followed behind them, irked at the fact he couldn't understand the two's conversation because of the parseltongue. However, he thought it very interesting to hear two humans speak the snake's language, rather than his master and his giant snake Nagini.

The man smirked down at him. +He's an instructor at your school,+ he responded vaguely.

Harry thought over this semi-answer. Only one professor was new that year, and the others acted as they usually did throughout the years. He smiled smugly. +It's Professor Moody, isn't it? But how is he hiding who he really is? And wouldn't the real Moody become suspicious of someone using his image to get closer to Dumbledore?+

+Polyjuice potion, of course. And I think Crouch reported that the man was hidden in a compartment of his own trunk, under the effects of a Stunner or the Imperious curse. Barty has also reported that you are able to throw off the Imperious curse. That's quite impressive, Harry.+

+Thanks,+ the teen replied, grinning up at the older man. +And that explanation makes sense. It also explains why he's always drinking from that flask of his.+

The man agreed with him. By this point, the group was gathered on the balcony to Voldemort's manor. Snape was standing impatiently, his fingers twitching every now and again.

"Eleven days," Harry whispered as he stared into the distance, his expression downcast.

"You'll be back before you know it," Voldemort replied soothingly. He wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders and pulled Harry in for a hug, resting his chin on the messy raven-colored hair.

"Not soon enough." Harry moaned into his shoulder, but pulled back, masking his expression with what looked like years of practice. Voldemort was curious about that fact, but it was getting late and Severus still had to take Harry back to Hogwarts.

Voldemort gestured for Snape to step up. "Go back to Hogwarts, Severus. I expect you to take him there and cover for Harry. Return on the fourth to me, or I'll call you, painfully."

Severus gulped and tried to hide his reaction. He nodded curtly and held his arm to his side. "Hold on to my arm with both your hands, and I'll side-Apparate us to the edge of the Hogwarts wards. Do not let go regardless of what you feel."

Harry stepped to his side, exchanging one last look with Lord Voldemort. He grasped Snape's forearm, fingers squeezing his robes and flesh together uncomfortably. "My Lord," Severus told Voldemort, bowing his head to the man. A quick half-step forward, partnered with a turn, and he and Harry were encased in a void. The pressure squeezed Harry against him and a few seconds later brought the duo right before the giant iron gates of Hogwarts.

Harry fell to his knees, dry heaving. Against his will, Severus found himself comforting the teen. He remembered his first few side-along Apparitions very well, having gotten sick at the end of the transportation. His fingers ran through Harry's hair until the teen was steady enough to stand. Harry's hair had the same texture as Lily's, Severus remembered vaguely.

Severus flicked his wand at the gates. Recognizing his magical signature, the one on the left swung open a few feet. The two entered, Harry walking next to Snape. When both were on the school's grounds, the gate closed with a clang. Crying voices assaulted their ears as Harry and Snape approached the Quidditch field. People huddled around one another, parents wrapped protectively around their children.

A circle of yellow robes, with the black of professors dotted throughout the group, was huddled at the edge of the maze, and was the center of most of the noise. Harry figured Cedric's body to be in the center, most likely accompanied by his parents. He and Snape exchanged looks, and the man stared impassively at him. Harry sighed once again; it'd be up to him to carry on the deception. Harry stumbled, falling into Severus' side. He threw his arms around the man for balance, proceeding to the edge of the group. Snape walked stiffly, one arm around the faltering teen's waist so he wouldn't run away. Besides, the potion was due to wear away in a few minutes, and the pain would likely bring Potter to the ground.

One Hufflepuff was shoved aside as Harry and Snape entered the circle. She called out, "Professor! You brought him back!" She moved to try and support Harry, but Professor Snape pushed her out of the way, a dark warning on his face. The student stumbled back, joined by others Snape forced from his path. On the commotion, others before them parted, staring oddly at Harry. The teen lowered his eyes and brought tears to them. A few trickled down his cheeks and under his chin, dripping onto his filthy, blood-stained Champion uniform.

Headmaster Dumbledore stood next to the body, his beard tucked into his belt to prevent it from blowing on Cedric's father, on his knees and cradling his deceased son in his arms. His wife sat next to him, holding on to the cooled, unmoving hand. "You've returned, Severus," Dumbledore commented when he saw his spy supporting the weeping teen. "Take him to the school; I'll get the Diggorys sorted out," he ordered.

Snape nodded and turned, dragging the unresisting Harry with him to the school. Half-way there, the duo was joined by Moody. Harry assessed the man from under his fringe. This was Voldemort's other supporter, he thought. Moody – Crouch – alternated between watching the approaching school, his surroundings, and Harry and Snape. He didn't offer to help support Harry, rather leaving him with Severus.

Suddenly, Harry froze. Snape sighed, expecting this to happen soon. He was rather surprised Potter had taken this long to come across the pain from the Cruciatus curse, but it mattered not. Harry breathed harshly, trying to curl in on himself. Snape forced him to continue walking, and each step was agony to his limbs. "What happened?" the disguised Crouch asked.

"The Dark Lord tortured him with the Cruciatus curse, and the numbing potion has worn off," Snape stated. The grand doors of the school swung open at their approach, and Severus started to lead Harry to the Hospital Wing.

"Let's go to my office; it's closer and the after effects of that curse are quite painful," Moody interjected.

Snape was about to protest, but the clenching of Harry's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Fine," he hissed, and followed behind Moody.

The distance was torture to Harry, but he held his tears of pain in, expressing his distress in the stiffening of his limbs. Finally, the scarred wooden door to Moody's office came into view. The man held the door open as Severus and Harry entered. He gestured to a chair for Harry to sit on, and Snape led the teen to it, settling him as painlessly as possible.

Severus pulled out his wand and spoke, "_Tempus_." The time appeared in the air, and he assessed it before banishing the clock. He pulled another potion from his robes and handed it to Moody. "Give this to him in seven minutes; I'm going to tell Dumbledore Potter's in here with you."

Snape left the room, thinking that Moody would help out Potter. After all, he didn't know Moody was Crouch, and that Barty thought Harry escaped from his lord.

Barty watched the door to his office swing closed. He smirked at it then turned to the teen. Harry was resting in the chair, his head leaning on the back support with his eyes closed. Crouch stumped along to a chair propped against a wall, out of Harry's line of sight. He lowered himself in it and began to undo the brace that held the wooden leg to his stump. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?" he asked curiously. If he was right, his lord had performed the spell on the brat, and Potter would be in a lot of pain. It made him happy to know the boy suffered from his master's anger.

"It hurts," Harry whispered. "Has it been seven minutes yet?"

"Not quite," Barty replied. He loosened the fake eye's binding around his head; the Polyjuice would wear off in a few minutes, and he planned on killing the teen for his lord and escaping, returning to his master's side once he left the wards surrounding Hogwarts. Barty cursed as the eye fell from the brace and landed on the ground. It rolled around, spinning as it gazed off in different directions.

"You know, Barty, you don't have to run. You could kill the real Moody and disappear for good. Dumbledore will become suspicious if I am here, dead, with Alastor Moody locked in his own trunk," Potter spoke.

Barty froze in his bent over position, fishing on the ground for the fake eye. Slowly, his single eye lifted with his face until he was gazing at Mr. Potter, his lord's little brat. "What was that, Mr. Potter?" he asked, not quite daring to believe what he heard.

"I said you don't have to run. You can stay for the rest of the school year and return to your lord after the summer begins. While leaving me alive, of course," he replied, stating the obvious. As if by some invisible timer, Harry stretched his hand out to Barty. "Pass the potion, would you? These shocks of pain aren't that much fun."

Barty was still frozen, but the kid's words got to him. He straightened and leaned forward, placing the closed vial in the outstretched hand. Potter retracted his hand and brought to cap to his mouth. He bit down on it and pulled it from the glass and spat it across the room. Harry lifted the vial to his mouth and downed its contents. He squirmed uncomfortably as the potion started to numb him, while at the same time making an expression of distaste from the flavor.

"What exactly are you talking about?" he questioned. He checked his pocket watch and took note that he had only two minutes to ingest the Polyjuice, or he'd turn back into himself.

"I've defected of course, and Voldemort told me that you're his spy on Severus in case he decides to remain loyal to Dumbledore." Harry spun his chair around so he was facing Barty, his movements easier now that the pain was numbed and his muscles stretched out once more. Harry wondered over why he was acting like he was; usually, Harry didn't tell anyone anything important unless it was dragged from him, one word at a time.

He was eyed curiously by the faux-Moody. "Have you really?" the man questioned.

"Yep; Voldemort added me to the wards and I'm staying there for the summer. If you don't believe me, you could always ask Severus; he was there for most of the time. And he owes me books on Occlumency, too, so Dumbledore is unable to know everything."

Crouch sat back in his chair. He evaluated the boy mentally and decided he was telling the truth. With a depressed sigh, Barty pulled out his flask and swallowed three mouthfuls of the potion. The disgusting slop weighed heavy in his stomach, but his disguise didn't change at all. With slow, bored movements, Crouch pulled the leg back to him and started to clip it on to the stump of his thigh. The eye came to him when summoned, and he placed it back in its band and wrapped it around his crown. Though he hated the circumstances, Barty was happy he could see all again.

Harry was drowsing in his seat, trusting of Barty. Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, and Pomfrey were approaching down the hall.

"Remember, don't mention any of which I have stated," Harry ordered him. The man was appalled at the demanding tone, but shook his head and relaxed in his chair, waiting for the three professors and the healer to arrive.

Madam Pomfrey entered the office first, glancing around at the questionable objects floating in equally questionable liquids perched on shelves around the room. She spotted Harry and quickly advanced to his side, bringing out her wand and muttering phrases while waving it in different patterns.

"What ails young Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked the frazzled woman.

"We need to get you up to the Infirmary," Poppy told Harry, ignoring her boss for the time being. She conjured a stretcher, and cast _Wingardium Leviosa_ on Harry to place him on it. The teen didn't protest the treatment, and winked at Crouch as he was levitated from the room. The three other professors followed the nurse and the remaining Hogwarts champion, leaving Barty alone to wonder about the future of the Wizarding World if the Golden Boy Harry Potter had defected already.


	3. Trains and Cupboards

My thanks goes to Ciega Chica, who pointed out a plot hole in the previous segment; that will be fixed in a oneshot following Choices, entitled Of Nightmares and Nocturnal Musings, which will be dedicated to you for your observations. Thanks!

* * *

The Infirmary was busy when the five arrived; Madam Pomfrey levitated Harry off of his stretcher into a bed off to the side of the room. Harry noted that it was the bed he stayed in each time he was in the Infirmary and smirked.

The other champions and their families were in the room as well. Viktor, with two adults that looked like a mother and grandfather, was propped up in his bed, staring warily at his wand.

Fleur was asleep, her body healing from her own Cruciatus curse.

Cedric's body was laid out on the other end of the room. His father still sobbed, his mother holding on to his hands, as they sat in chairs to either side of him. Cho Chang was there as well, crying over the death of her boyfriend. A few Hufflepuffs, those Harry took to be Cedric's friends and team mates, also accompanied his body, and looked quite upset.

Poppy wove her wand again, but this time the results were on display for everyone to see. The after effects of the Cruciatus, bruised wrists and waist from being bound, a long, starting-to-heal wound down his arm, and the damaged leg from the creature in the maze, as well as a few dozen cuts and scrapes from the bushes and hard landings.

"Are there signs of shock?" Harry heard Dumbledore ask Poppy.

She murmured back, "There aren't spells to detect it, but based on his posture and expressions, he is pretty close to going into shock. The events have most likely not caught up with him yet." She redirected her attention to her patient. "You are a mess, Mr. Potter, the woman told Harry. She pulled the curtains closed on the bed after telling him to change into clean pajamas, and left Harry alone. He heard her ordering Severus to help apply potions to his wounds, along with various medications to stop infection.

Harry worked his way out of the torn, dirty, and bloodstained clothes. He wished he could shower because he could feel the sweat and mud caked on his limbs. Instead, Harry made due with a mild _Scourgify_, running the spell over himself from toes to hair. He finally finished and dressed himself. He settled above the blankets, storing his wand under his pillow. Harry pulled one of the curtains open to signal he was ready for Madam Pomfrey's treatment.

The woman appeared and handed him three potions. "These are a healing potion, an antivenin for the spider bite, and a Dreamless Sleep. Take the last after we're done dressing your wounds."

Harry nodded and drank the first two, one a horrid pink, the other a milky white color. Both tasted nasty. He wondered why the venom from the spider hadn't affected him at all, and voiced his question.

Madam Pomfrey shrugged with Severus, and both began working on his legs; Poppy had the one bitten by the spider while Snape smeared salve over the minor wounds on the other. Harry could barely keep his eyes open; the day was catching up with him fast. His eyes fluttered shut and Snape cursed. "Stay awake, Potter! Those potions need a while longer to be absorbed before you can sleep."

Harry groaned and turned his face to the side, rubbing against the surprisingly soft pillow. He grinned sleepily for no good reason, and ignored his professor. Harry fell into sleep, dreamless sleep, without the help of potions.

"Impertinent brat," Severus commented as he looked upon his Lord's new favorite. He shook his head and continued dabbing the salve on the many wounds. The one from the knife was already weeks into normal healing; the scabs formed earlier were falling off, leaving a thick, pink line in their stead.

"He'll be out by tomorrow evening," Poppy told Severus. "I should think about giving him this bed; he's in here often enough."

Severus smirked, and sat in the single chair next to the bed. Poppy left to tend to her other patients, pulling the curtains shut behind her. Snape pulled out his wand and flicked up silencing wards. Using his wand, Severus jabbed it into the teen's side to wake him up.

Potter flew into a fetal position, cradling his side. His eyes slid open, glaring at his professor through the thick lenses of his glasses. "What do you want?" he asked, annoyed at being woken up.

"You should drink this before you sleep again; you don't know what you'll dream about, and what you'll sequentially speak about," Severus said.

Harry rolled his eyes, but grabbed the potion anyway. "Thank you for tending to my wounds," he told Severus as he worked to open the vial.

"Our Lord would likely Crucio me if I left you without medical help," Severus replied. He squirmed in his seat as the boy gazed at him sleepily. Snape stood firmly. "I will give you the books soon. Now take your potion so I may get some rest of my own," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied lazily, saluting him mockingly. A grin adorned his face.

Severus rolled his eyes at the antics and waited for the potion to be swallowed. He grabbed the empty container before it could shatter on the stone floor as the teen fell immediately into sleep. He shook his head and tucked the empty vial - to be later cleaned and refilled - into one of his many pockets. Severus tugged the blankets from under the teen, cursing the fact he did not think have Harry do it while he was awake. He pulled them under the boy's chin, smoothed them over, and left through the curtains. He slid them closed behind him and left the wing to head to Dumbledore's office to report the story he was fed by his lord.

~~~ooo~~~

Harry woke the next afternoon. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, and the others had been released while he was asleep. Cedric's body was gone, along with his grieving parents and friends. Harry's own friends weren't present, which wasn't odd considering it was lunch.

Madam Pomfrey walked out of her office to Harry's bed, and the teen figured there was yet another monitoring spell on it. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?" she asked him.

Harry warily sat up, expecting to lie back down from pained nerves. Other than a lingering soreness, he was fine. The scar on his arm pulled, and his leg was nearly healed.

Poppy nodded at his findings and sent a spell to make sure he was telling the truth. "Call a house elf for some lunch, and you may be released this evening. If you leave this bed for any reason other than the bathroom, you'll be staying here for another night," she warned him.

He grinned up at Madam Pomfrey and watched her return to her office. He dutifully called a house elf and asked for sandwiches and juice. The elf returned a moment later with the food, setting it on the tray that passed over the foot of the bed. Harry ate, relaxing in the peaceful Infirmary.

When finished, he left the dishes in place and entered the bathroom. His bed was placed so he wasn't far from it. Harry first showered to rid himself of the dusting of dirt his spell didn't remove the night before. He then filled the adjacent tub with warm water and cleansing potions and settled in for a relaxing bath.

After Harry pruned, he left the tub, dried off, and dressed in a fresh pair of pajamas. He entered the Infirmary, a faint limp in his step. Bored and with no company around, Harry slept again.

~~~ooo~~~

Harry was released from the Hospital Wing. His friends slowly came back, though were wary as none had heard his story on what happened in the grave yard. Dumbledore cast a spell on Harry's wand, but other than that, the old man ignored the teen, spending hours locked in his office. Severus claimed that Dumbledore was aware of Voldemort's return, but doing nothing other than claiming Cedric's death was a result of the Death Eater who had portkey'd the duo from the maze. Harry agreed with that twist of the truth, and was careful to stay away from his Headmaster lest the man use Legilimency on his mind.

All too soon, the Leaving Feast was upon Hogwarts. Rather than the winning House's colors of the year, the Great Hall was a somber black, many banners with Cedric's name dangling from the ceiling.

"There will be no House winners this year," Dumbledore spoke as the Great Hall quieted. "With the death of your classmate, there is no reason for celebration."

Surprisingly, no students whispered about this, instead remaining silent. "Before the feast begins, let us have a moment of silence in memory of Cedric Diggory." Many of the students and staff bowed their heads in respect, eyes closed. Harry glanced around from under his fringe, and caught a few of the Slytherins gazing at him, watching him evenly.

Harry's eyes flickered up to Severus, and found the man watching his Slytherins with a calculating gaze. The ebony eyes made contact with Harry's, and the teen blinked once as a question. Severus's mind pressed against Harry's, and the teen felt him enter with no resistance; he had yet to read the books Severus had left in the hospital wing for him.

_They are wondering what really happened that night. Most know my Dark Mark has been acting up, and notes from Death Eater parents have them aware that Voldemort has returned to a living body. Their own questions have sparked the questions as to where you were during that night, and the parents in return told of my Lord's apprentice-of-sorts, who was there and remained once they had gone. _

_Why does that have them curious? Surely the parents will realize that questioning Him will get them no where._

Severus's lips twitched into a small smirk. The hall was still silent around them. _They wish to know who you are, though the parents are aware that you came back with me. It makes them wonder where you were during the meeting, and the students are beginning to piece things together._

Harry blinked in agreement and felt Snape slip from his mind, for which he was grateful. Even on his own allowance, Legilimency still freaked Harry out with its invasiveness.

"Our wishes to a pleasant summer break. For those who won't be returning for the next term, we wish you luck. For those returning, term begins on September the first, as always. Let the feast begin." Dumbledore sat in his wing-backed chair, glancing around the subdued hall as the food appeared on the five tables. He glanced between Harry and the Slytherins, both of which seemed to be having a staring contest. He heard Severus snicker softly to his left, which also caught the attention of the other teachers. Pomona Sprout inched away from the dark man, as few had heard him express his amusement in years.

Slowly, the volume level grew again as conversations picked up. Sure, the voices weren't as excited, especially Hufflepuff's house with their recent death, but the school year was ending and summer was upon them. Harry settled on the bench with an indifferent air about him. He acknowledged Ron and Hermione, but ignored their pleas to tell them what had happened in the graveyard. He knew it was out of character for him to be so removed, but Harry figured his acting skills would be up to par the next school year.

~~~ooo~~~

The next morning dawned bright and early. The carriages were waiting at the doors of Hogwarts, and Harry watched the winged black horses pulling them with a curious expression.

A voice next to him had Harry gazing down at a petite, blonde Ravenclaw. He eyed her vegetable earrings and bottle cap necklace, but listened as she explained. "They're Thestrals, invisible to those who haven't seen death."

Harry nodded at the explanation, and held his hand out for the girl to enter the carriage first. He joined her, followed by Ron and Hermione. Harry sat across from the girl, who had pulled a magazine from a pocket and read it upside down. "Luna Lovegood," she told him, sticking her hand out to the side of the paper.

He shook her hand with a murmured, "Harry Potter," and released her fingers. He relaxed into the seat, ignoring the mindless flirting between Ron and Hermione. Instead, Harry chose to stare out the window at the horses pulling the carriage. Why were they suddenly visible now?

The seat next to him was quickly occupied; Luna leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You have to watch the life leave the person. That is why Thestrals are considered dark creatures." Her breath fanned across Harry's face, his features expressionless. Now he understood.

"What about my mother?" he asked in return. "The dementors bring back the night with the green light striking her, and then coming at me."

She made a small sound, and angled her magazine so Harry could read along. The boy was captivated with the younger girl and the way she seemed able to read his mind. Did she know of everything, or just guess?

Luna giggled. "No, silly, your face is very expressive. You are quite easy to read. Though, if I were interested, I'd learn Legilimency from Professor Snape. Headmaster Dumbledore would like to exploit my secrets, I am sure. He'd be a bad one to teach me."

Harry gaped at her brightly-smiling upturned face. "That's a little bit creepy," he told her.

The girl shrugged happily and returned to the _Quibbler_. A few minutes later, the carriage reached the train station on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Hermione and Ron exited first, with a brief, "We'll find an empty compartment!" and were gone, leaving Harry and Luna. He stepped out and waited for Luna. She had him wait a moment as she pulled something red and soggy from a bag stashed in one of her many pockets. Luna held it out to the Thestral, her hand a small distance from its nose. The beast ducked its head to sniff the object, and its mouth opened, displaying fangs that would normally reside in a cat's mouth. It ate the food after delicately snatching it from Luna's palm.

She held the bag out for Harry to feed the other. He scrunched his nose at the gooey feeling as his fingers pinched one of the chunks in the bag. On pulling it out, Harry found it to be raw meat, and was a little disgusted. However, he braved himself and repeated Luna's process with the other Thestral. This one was curious, licking Harry's hand for traces of blood once it had swallowed the treat.

Luna laughed as her Thestral nuzzled her side in search of more. "I'm sorry, you ate it all, Silly!" she exclaimed.

The Thestral exhaled grumpily and head butted the girl in the direction of the trains. "Okay, okay," Luna replied. "Come on, Harry, we should go before they leave without us."

With a pat on the Thestral's bony neck, Harry joined Luna on the staircase to the platform where the ruby-red Hogwarts Express waited. Was it just him, or was everything related to Hogwarts Gryffindor colored? Luna led the way into the first empty compartment she found, regardless of the promise Ron and Hermione made. "Sit and shush for now," Luna demanded, pointing to the padded bench. She waited until Harry was seated before she stood from her place and slid the door shut, locking it with a simple spell and the latch. She pulled the curtain closed as well. "Now you can tell me what really happened in the graveyard that night, rather than what Headmaster Dumbledore has been spreading around the school. I know that's not what occurred, you and I both do."

Harry closed up; he stiffened in shock as his face blanked – Luna couldn't read him if he wasn't open – and stared at her in surprise. "How do you know that is not what really happened?"

She smiled serenely. "I didn't, but you just confirmed it with your sudden close-up."

Harry sighed and let himself fall onto the bench until he was lying on his back. His feet barely touched the other wall. From his peripheral vision, he could see Luna doing the same, although her feet pointed towards his head. Her magazine was tucked away, all of her attention focused on him. "Can I trust you?" he asked warily. He eyed her suspiciously.

"Of course you can, Silly! Whom else would I tell, the grass? No one ever believes me, regardless of what I say."

The train started moving at this point, stilling the start of Harry's story as he waited for the whistles to quiet. They soon stopped, but Harry was interrupted by a knock at the door. "This is occupied," Luna declared loudly.

The person ignored her statement, and continued to knock. Luna rolled her eyes at Harry and sat up. She brought the locking spell down with a flick of her wand, which she returned to behind her ear, and pulled the locked latch open. With a last knock, the door slid open to display Draco Malfoy, fist poised to rap on the door again. "Finally; I thought you'd never open the door," he told them, stepping into the compartment and sliding the door shut behind him. He cast the same locking charm, _Claustro*_, on the door, along with another, _Silencio_, before shoving Harry's feet from where they still lay and sitting in the vacated space.

"What was that for?" Harry exclaimed, nearly falling from the bench. He caught himself in time and sat with his feet flat on the seat, knees bent, and facing Malfoy's profile.

Malfoy's eyebrow rose at Harry's comment, but he remained silent until he was prodded in the hip with a foot. He harrumphed snootily. "You're going to tell what really happened in the graveyard. We Slytherins have heard from our parents that the Dark Lord is back. You were there, and if he's back, that means Headmaster Dumbledore either doesn't know the truth, or doesn't want the rest of us to know the truth. You, however, know what happened, and can tell me."

Harry sneered. "What makes you think I want to tell what really happened, if anything happened, hmm?"

Draco glared. "No matter how strange and Light-oriented the Lovegoods seem, they have always been Neutral with Dark tendencies. She'd probably force you to tell her what happened regardless of your wishes. My own desires wish to be met with the truth, not the lies Dumbledore has been feeding the rest of the school."

Harry stared blankly at the blonde, who started fidgeting. "Can I trust you?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Anything that you mention can most likely be used against me, so it is in my best interests to tell only those who would hold interest in the truth. Professor Snape obviously knows, and he taught me the proper security standards so none others can hear what happened. As such, yes, you can trust me to not go running off and telling someone who wishes you ill-harm."

Harry let his head fall back against the window with a sigh. With a last calculating glance between Luna and Malfoy, he began his tale. He left out the fact that Moody was really Barty Crouch, and the emotions he felt when Voldemort touched him, as well as the man's regret over casting the spell. "You're joking," Draco commented when Harry mentioned Voldemort himself cast the spell. Harry had replied negatively, but the other's statement started a train of thought he followed with little attention as he continued with his story.

"Do you realize that sounds very unbelievable?" Malfoy asked him when Harry was done. Harry agreed, a small smile gracing his lips. For some reason unbeknownst to him, sharing the story with people his own age was a bit of a relief.

A call down the hallway outside the compartment startled the trio. "Trolley!"

Draco cursed. "Do either of you want anything?" he asked while pulling a few galleons from a pocket as an offer to pay.

"Chocolate frogs," Harry told him.

"Blood-pops," Luna responded, a dazed look on her face.

Malfoy seemed disgusted at the last, but pulled down the locking spell with _Alohomora_ and the silencing charm with _Tacitsonus*_. "You should stay in here so no one else wonders why you of all people are with me."

"Fine with me," he replied along with Luna.

Malfoy slid out of the compartment and returned a few minutes later with a bag of sweets. Harry took a few of his choice, leaving the lollypops for Luna and the Licorice Wands for Malfoy. He paid little attention to the card he received with the chocolate, instead focusing on catching the hopping frog. Luckily, it only bounced once before the spell wore off and he could eat it. Malfoy flicked the spells at the closed door again before relaxing, chewing on his candy.

"So I'll be seeing you this summer then, Potter," Malfoy commented. "My father mentioned the Dark Lord has invited my family for a few days."

Harry nodded and considered something. He decided to go with the impulse and held out his hand, much like Malfoy did before first year. "If we are to be seeing each other, I think it is best to be on a first name basis. Call me Harry," he told the other teen.

Malfoy cocked his head to the side, determining whether Harry was honest or not. He smiled a little, different from his normal smirk. "If that is the case, call me Draco, Harry," he replied, shaking Harry's hand.

"The same goes for you, Malfoy," Luna told the blond.

He smirked and held his hand out. "Pleasant to meet you, Luna," he responded.

"Draco," Luna said. She retracted her hand. "You should both be getting back to your friends unless you wish them to wonder why you two are together."

"Do you wish to join Hermione, Ron, and me, Luna?" Harry asked as he stood. The wrappers were thrown to the floor, where they disappeared from a built-in cleaning charm.

The blonde girl tilted her head to the side, long, straggly hair falling over her shoulder. "Would I be welcome among your friends?" she questioned.

Harry told her, "You're my friend, so if they have a problem, we'll both leave."

She smiled, teeth flashing in the overhead lights. "Okay then. Shall we go?"

"Let's," Harry returned, holding his arm out with a grin. Draco rolled his eyes as Luna linked elbows with Harry.

"I'll just see you this summer then, yeah?"

Harry nodded and waited for Draco to take the two charms down before he led Luna from the compartment, turning left and stopping to peek in each window as they passed. Draco turned right to head for the Slytherin end of the train.

Luna hummed quietly to herself as the duo walked down the aisle. After passing by more than eleven closed doors, a redhead and a curly brunette came into view, along with Neville Longbottom. Harry pulled open the sliding door and they walked in together and sat side-by-side on the available portion of the bench.

All three glanced up when they sat down, and Ron and Hermione immediately asked where he had been and why he had _Loony Lovegood_ with him. "We were in a separate compartment getting to know each other, Hermione, and her name is Luna, not _Loony_, Ron," Harry stated. Luna smiled softly as she pulled out her _Quibbler_ and started to read it, resting her head on Harry's shoulder.

He relaxed, leaning back into the cushioned seat and closing his eyes. Ron and Hermione's chatter eventually started up again, Neville occasionally adding something. Slowly, Harry fell into a peaceful sleep, undisturbed by dreams.

~~~ooo~~~

He felt a hand shaking him from his shoulder, jerking him from his rest. Harry cracked open an eye and saw Luna staring down at him. "We're almost at the station, and you should change before you leave the Magical World," she informed him.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry replied. He stood and tugged his robes over his head, leaving him standing in large, raggedy clothes. He stood on his tip toes to reach his trunk, set in the rack above the seats – the case had appeared during the last part of the ride, as magic settled each student's objects with the owner. Harry flicked the latch up and stuffed his robes, after pulling his wand from the inside pocket, into the open trunk. His hand compressed the lid of the trunk as he locked it again and returned to sitting next to Luna, copying her and tucking his wand behind his ear for the moment.

Luna handed him the copy of the _Quibbler_ she had been reading earlier, as she pulled out the next month's copy. "Why are you reading that, anyway, Harry?" Ron asked him as he stopped the chess game he and Neville were playing. Ron was winning, and the beaten pieces were slowly hobbling to their places in the box they were stored in.

"Because it's entertaining," he replied.

"It's just a bunch of lies," Hermione stated, looking up from her very thick book.

Luna frowned as she glanced up from it. "My father's the editor, thank you."

Hermione flinched back and hurriedly apologized. Luna glared briefly, but returned to reading her copy. Harry relaxed against her and read his, ignoring the conversations as Ron and Neville returned to their game.

A few minutes later, the five felt the train slowing, and packed up their loose belongings. Harry handed Luna her _Quibbler_, but she gave it back, saying, "You'll need to know everything in that, so read it over the summer."

Harry grinned wryly and loyally stuffed it in his trunk. He moved his wand to his front pocket. It fit nearly entirely in the loose pants – handed down from Dudley – but he covered the handle with his shirt anyway. The train gradually stopped as it pulled into the station. All of the doors to each compartment opened and the aisle soon flooded with Hogwarts students. Harry helped Luna retrieve her trunk and he followed her out the door with his. Ron and Hermione came after, bickering over something pointless to Harry.

The group exited the train and Luna quickly spotted her father. She gave Harry a hug, which he returned awkwardly. "I'll see you soon. And be sure to mention me to Him." She whispered the last as Ron and Hermione waited impatiently. "See you," Luna told the other three. She left, tugging her trunk behind her.

"Bye, Neville," Harry told the other boy as Neville found his grandmother.

"Bye, Harry," he shyly returned, and walked off, leaving Ron and Hermione with Harry.

"I'll see you on September first," Harry informed his friends.

Ron was confused. "You don't want to come to the Burrow this summer?"

Harry shook his head. "I have some things to think about, and I'd prefer to not be interrupted while I do so," he replied.

"If you say so." Both Ron and Hermione were staring at him oddly, but Harry dismissed the looks.

He shifted in his stance, swaying as he waited for them to speak again.

"Well, I'll tell Mum then, alright Harry?"

He smiled, relieved, and waved goodbye before heading over to the gate and the Muggle world. As he left, he heard Ron tell his parents Harry was busy this summer, and would see the group the next term. Harry ignored the glance from the redhead's parents as he exited the Muggle world and was reunited with his angry, disgruntled uncle and disapproving aunt.

~~~ooo~~~

Severus was quite irritated as he nearly jogged onto the Hogwarts grounds. The Dark Mark burning on his forearm had steadily gained in strength as he took his time in gathering his cloak and mask, and alerted Dumbledore. The elder man, having heard Severus' abridged story about the graveyard, knew the Dark Lord was back, but he didn't know of Harry's or Severus' true alliances, which was exactly what the two raven-haired males desired.

However, it was the evening of the third day of July, and Severus had no clue why he was instructed to appear before his master now, when he wouldn't be gathering Harry from the Muggles until the fifth. Regardless, the intensity was starting to get to Severus and he broke into a run, clueless as to why his lord wanted him at the manor at _that_ moment, and not a second later. The gates to Hogwarts grew in his sight and he was quick to send a stream of magic with his identification so they'd be open by the time he reached the iron.

The moment Severus set foot outside of Hogwarts' anti-Apparition wards, he was gone, Apparating to Riddle Manor and his impatiently waiting master. He appeared in the entrance hall and cursed as the mark sent a sharp sting to his nervous system. He continued to run down the hallways to the throne room, pulling up his hood and sticking his mask on simultaneously.

The doors flew open at his approach, and Severus slowed to a fast walk as he approached the dais. His master was smirking suspiciously from his throne, sitting quietly. When he was close enough to Lord Voldemort, Severus dropped to a knee and bowed his head before rising and facing his master. "My Lord," he mumbled as Voldemort stood again.

The man's red eyes glinted as he replied, "Sseverss, my loyal sservant. What is your news of Dumbledore?"

Severus was a little surprised – his master's need for knowledge was what had brought him here so fast? He shook off his shock and told him what had happened when Harry arrived – not mentioning Barty-as-Moody because he still wasn't aware of that fact – and the events that followed as the teen recovered in the hospital wing.

"So Harry is fine then, and Dumbledore suspects neither of you," Voldemort concluded.

Snape agreed and waited for Voldemort to tell him the other reason why he was still waiting. Voldemort noted his impatience and brought up the next topic – rescuing Harry from the Muggles.

"You can fetch him on the fifth, correct?"

"Yes, my Lord, but he has a watcher, a Squib in place on orders of Dumbledore, who can owl or Floo him at any given time. Dumbledore refrained from having Order members monitor the house this far in, and he won't be bringing the boy to Headquarters this summer." Voldemort was frustrated at the brainpower of Dumbledore to look up a border-line Dark spell just to protect his precious Headquarters from capture. The man figured he'd work on finding the place once Harry was reunited with him. Snape continued, "Apparently, after de-boarding the train, Harry expressed his desire to be alone in the Muggle World this summer and that he'd see his friends on the platform come September."

Voldemort smiled, though on his face, it was quite scary.

"Also, there is an alert around that someone may have murdered Alastor Moody. His body was found around four this evening, in one of his trunk's compartments. It looked as if he were pushed, though all memory spells show that no one was in the room. Moody was reportedly packing, having handed his registration with Dumbledore this morning when the students left the school." To his surprise, the smile on his master's face didn't fade; in truth, Snape could swear it brightened, and he became quite frightened.

"This is all good, and I am now waiting for my loyal servant to return," Voldemort stated, his mind whirling with the new advancement. This meant that Crouch was undiscovered, and they no longer had opposition in the form of a top ex-Auror, Moody. "Harry should be taken no later than noon from the Muggles. Confund the Squib into thinking he's there and Apparate him back here," he ordered.

Snape nodded and left on Voldemort's orders to return with Potter on the fifth. He had less than two days to clear out his rooms in Hogwarts and set up at his house in Spinner's End, so his departure would go unnoticed. Severus sincerely hoped that Dumbledore would respect Harry's decision to be secluded until the next term, or heads were going to roll under his master's wand.

~~~ooo~~~

Harry was exceedingly irritated at the moment. He had been happily ignored by his relatives while his uncle drove them back to Privet Drive and the others continued their conversations. Not even a minute after stepping foot into the house, he had been shoved into the cupboard under the stairs, and his trunk thrown into the cluttered garage. Harry was happy he had the foresight to send Hedwig on to Riddle Manor since he had no clue what would happen to her when he returned to the Muggles.

Though Harry was diminutive in stature, the cupboard was still extremely confined, and he found himself lying on the pallet (it was still set up from when he was ten, single, holey sheet included) with his feet dangling off one end, staring up at the mass of spider webs decorating the underside of the steps. He had been with his family for two nights, and Harry was miserable. Each morning, his aunt hammered on his door to wake him up and shoved him into the kitchen. Petunia then hovered to make sure Harry didn't eat a crumb of the food going to her precious child as he cooked and set the food on the table, covered with paper towels to keep in the heat. After, she gave Harry a few sips of water, five minutes in the bathroom to clean up, and sent him back into the cupboard with the door locked shut.

Dudley would be down a while later, and he had resorted to his childhood torment of jumping on the stairs directly above Harry. Since his cousin hadn't partaken in that activity for a few years, the dust clouds raining down were quite thick, and Harry ended up shredding an edge of the sheet and wrapping it around his head to protect his mouth and nose when he was in his room. There was not much to do in Harry's haven. Though the light bulb had been removed upon his admittance to the cupboard, Harry could still see from the light under the door, enough to watch the spiders dangle from their webs to examine him.

He lifted a finger and poked one of the spiders hanging in front of his face. The arachnid swung back and forth for a moment, movement increased by Harry's exhales. On one of the downswings, it attached itself to Harry's motionless finger. He felt the eight independent legs crawl down his finger and ignored the odd feeling. Harry felt more spiders drop on to him, but he couldn't be bothered to care. The only thought running through his mind as he reclined on the cot was a wish for him to not be bitten. Harry relaxed, content and at peace with the direction his life had taken.

His peace was disturbed minutes later by a hammering on the front door of the Dursley residence. He didn't bother to move except to blink his eyes open and stare at the door to his cupboard. As he looked through the lenses to his glasses, Harry noted a few spiders had taken residence on the glass, and he couldn't care less.

The pounding increased, which then inflated his Uncle Vernon's temper. "What do you want?" the fat man yelled as he waddled through the short hallway, slamming a hand against the cupboard door for good measure. Harry heard the man unlock the front door and slam it open; the door nearly rebounded into the fat man if his curses were heard correctly.

A smooth, calm voice replied, "I am here for your nephew."

"What nephew? Are you one of those freaks? Get out of my house!"

Harry smiled as Severus threatened his uncle. "Either you move of your own free will, or I force you. It is your choice."

The teen heard the gasping, angry breathes as his uncle blocked the front door.

"Very well. _Imperio!_"

On some unspoken command, Harry's uncle stepped away from the door and down the hallway again, passing by Harry's cupboard without a word. The door locked behind Severus as he entered the house.

"Now, Dursley, where is Potter?"

"I'm in here, Severus," Harry called, his voice hoarse from disuse. He didn't wish to bother waiting for his uncle's response when he had a voice of his own.

Severus paused as he paced the hallway; he froze in front of a small door under the stairs. Was Potter really in there?

"Professor?" He heard the voice again, directly next to him. "I know you're there; your shadow is blocking the light. Can you please get me out of here?"

Severus cursed, loudly, and flicked a quick _Alohomora_ at the numerous locks. He tugged on the small handle to pull the door open and bent over, to be face-to-face with a very dirty Harry Potter. Bright green eyes blinked at him and Severus cursed, yet again. "Let's get you cleaned up, Harry." He gently helped Harry out from his small enclosure, and Severus was a bit shocked to see that he cot looked like it had been in there for years, as well as the sheet, and neither had been washed.

Thinking of washing, the scent from Harry was killing his nostrils, and the spiders in the teen's hair had started to spin their webs. "Go shower; I'll conjure you some clothes when you are done. And hurry, I have to get you back to my master before noon today."

He released Harry, dusting his hand on the side of his robes. The teen swayed uncertainly, and Severus quickly grabbed him to steady the boy before he fell. "What is the problem?" he asked, leading Harry passed his uncle into the kitchen and shoving him down on to a chair.

"No food and very little water since Hogwarts," Harry replied, voice raspy.

Snape glanced around the pristine kitchen and spotted a bowl of fruit. He summoned the dish and handed a banana to Potter, who gratefully peeled and ate it. Severus conjured a cup and used the _Aguamenti_ Charm to fill it with water, which he also gave to Harry.

Harry smiled gratefully at his once-enemy, and felt the food stave off the hunger pains that had been chewing at his gut since the previous day. With strength slowly returned, Harry stood (with Severus' help) and led the way to the stairs and the bathroom. Harry was quite happy the shower had a bench to sit on in it, otherwise he would have had to take a bath (and, living with his cousin, that was something Harry did _not_ want to do.).

When Harry was safely in the bathroom, Severus pressed his mind on the Muggle's to gather his wife and obese son. Snape learned the whale of a child was out (though Dursley called him with some Muggle technology) and his wife was outside, busy in the garden. Even though it was a Tuesday, Dursley had taken the day off, a sporadic break from his job.

Snape sighed as he relaxed into an armchair and wished he were anywhere but with the Muggles. The moment Petunia came into the house, smoothing her apron to protect her clothing from the dirt, she recognized Severus as the wizard her sister went to school with. "What do you want?" she asked snootily, seating herself next to her surprisingly quiet husband.

"Nothing from you," Severus sneered. He pulled out his wand and threw the Imperious Curse at her. A small smile graced his lips as the woman's expression grew blank.

After three or so minutes, a tremendous force threw open the front door; a voice accompanied the person. "What am I here for? Piers invited me over for tea, but we didn't even get to his house before you called, Dad!" The mass came into view, though it paused at the cupboard. "And the freak's out. Where is he?" The younger Dursley waddled into view, and Severus immediately sent the purple spell at him. He directed the waste of space to the couch where his parents were seated and ordered them to stay put.

He swiftly stood from his rather comfortable chair and advanced to the stairs, which he then walked up, heading for the bathroom – the only occupied room on the top floor at the moment – and Harry. Severus knocked once on the door to alert Harry he was entering and then he pushed open the door.

The teen had a towel around his waist and Severus wasn't surprised to find evidence of his malnourishment in the form of seeing all his ribs. "Clothes?" Harry asked.

Severus conjured a set of robes, a shirt, pants, underwear, and flat shoes. He handed the pile to the teen and politely closed the door to the bathroom as he waited in the hall. A few minutes passed and Harry exited the small room. "Can you shrink them down for me?" the fourteen-year-old asked, gesturing to the fabric hanging off his slim frame. With another flick of his wand, the clothing clung to Harry, and the teen headed down the stairs, grasping onto the rail to steady his body.

"What would you like done about the Muggles?" Severus found himself asking when the duo was in the family room.

Harry's head tilted to the side. He shrugged and replied, "Maybe keep them under the Imperious curse so we don't have to worry about them spilling that I'm not here."

Snape nodded. "That works," he directed to Harry. To the Muggles, he ordered, "Go about your life as usual, and never mention Harry Potter, even when someone asks about him. Do you understand?"

As one, the fat people and the horse lady nodded their heads and stood. Dudley returned to his friends, Vernon to his television program, and Petunia to the kitchen. "Where are your belongings?" Severus asked Harry.

The teen gestured for the man to follow him, and Snape was shown to the garage. "In there. I think so, anyways." He sat in a chair conveniently set against a wall as Severus flicked his wand for light and advanced into the darkened room. He nearly tripped over the trunk, but ended up tapping the box with his wand to shrink it. On his way out of the room, he handed the miniature trunk to Harry, who stashed it in a pocket. "Are you ready?" Snape told Harry, "We're Apparating to the manor, so wear your mask as well." He pulled the white and red mask, loaned courtesy of the Dark Lord, from a side pocket and handed it to the sitting teen.

Harry got to his feet once he placed the mask on his face and pulled the hood up over his short, messy hair, and followed after the Potions Master. Severus led him through the house and out the front door, down the sidewalk and to the street. Like a normal Muggle, he looked both ways before crossing, Harry following close behind. At the other side of the road, Severus held his arm out for Harry to grasp. "We're out of the wards now, so I'll side-along you to Riddle Manor."

Harry gripped the offered forearm and, with a small turn, found himself compressed in space with the same uncomfortable feeling he had experienced in the graveyard. It was only uncomfortable though, and much more convenient and easier than Flooing, he thought. The couple arrived in the entrance hall, and Severus led the way to the throne room. A few Death Eaters were present, along with Voldemort who was busy directing his people.

"Ahh, good, Severus, you have brought him," Voldemort remarked when the duo had approached. Severus nodded and fell to a knee as Harry advanced up the steps and collapsed in the man's abandoned throne, much to the gasps of the Death Eaters below.

"Brat," Voldemort commented fondly as he moved to stand next to Harry. He ran fingers across the teen's cheek, much to the pleasure of Harry, who tilted his head into the comforting gesture. "Nagini will show you to my rooms; go in them, order some food from the house elves, eat, and then sleep, alright?" His voice was low when speaking as he didn't wish to bother with parseltongue at the moment.

"Alright," Harry replied, sitting straighter in the chair as he waited for the large snake. He still hadn't met Nagini as she had quickly disappeared from the graveyard.

The snake slithered from behind the throne on Voldemort's words – she understood a bit of English – and agreed when he asked her to show the teen to her master's rooms. +Follow,+ she hissed, slithering in a circle and leaving through the arch.

Harry's eyebrow rose over his mask, but at Voldemort's wave to go, he stood from the throne and followed the large reptile. As they had Apparated to the rooms before, Harry found himself struggling to memorize the new path. Soon enough, Nagini slithered through an arch build in to the bottom of a door, and Harry recognized the hallway outside of Voldemort's rooms. He twisted the knob and entered the rooms, the wards having been keyed into his signature when he was added by Voldemort. Nagini was curled onto a rug in front of the fire, her slit eyes closed against the heat. Harry slipped into a chair, tucked his feet under him, and snapped his fingers for a house elf. One came and soon disappeared with his order. When it returned, Harry ate as much as he could without being sick, thrust the tray away, and stood to walk into Voldemort's bedroom chambers.

He remembered at the last moment to strip out of his over robes, mask, and shoes, and fell asleep under the warm comforters within minutes.

* * *

**Spell translation**: Please ask if you wish to use those below, my creations; otherwise find good English to Latin/Greek translators and have fun!

_*Claustro _ – lock, barrier – Latin

_*Tacitsonus_ – tacit-silence, quiet; sonus-sound, noise – charm – blocks sound from escaping – Latin

Please review; you'll have my thanks. ~Deso


	4. Jokesters and Vinewood

**My apologies for the long wait; I really have no excuse. This is the last installment of ****Choices****, so please take the time to review!

* * *

**

This was the sight Voldemort came upon when he arrived in his rooms a good hour and a half later, after successfully diverting unwarranted questions from his Death Eaters. Harry slept on his side, one hand gripping the pillow, his knees pulled to his chest, face relaxed in a deep sleep. The man shook his head fondly, which was a surprise as he had only had Harry on his side for less than two weeks.

He gathered a book he had been meaning to read for a while, kicked off his shoes, and lay on his bed beside the teen, stroking a hand through the wild hair as he reclined. Like a cat, Harry pushed his head against the man's hand. The teen rolled over and pressed his face into Voldemort's side, falling into an even deeper sleep than before, one hand firmly gripping Voldemort's shirt.

~~~ooo~~~

Harry woke wrapped in a sleeping Voldemort's arms, and found he didn't care one bit. It was odd, considering he had never slept next to another person, especially a man. However, Harry had to use the bathroom and he pulled his mind from the sleepy realm it had been lost in. He tried to roll from the stronger man's arms, but they only tightened around him as he worked on escaping.

Harry narrowed his eyes as he thought on how to free himself. He finally resorted to poking Voldemort in the side, which caused the man to twitch and wake up a bit. +Go back to sleep,+ the man hissed, +I'm comfortable.+

+I have to use the bathroom,+ Harry replied, squirming even more.

Voldemort sighed and released Harry. The man rolled over, pulling the blankets higher over his shoulders. Harry took that as a signal to go, so he wiggled from the warm bed and sleepily walked to the bathroom to relieve himself. He returned a few minutes later, thought about sleeping somewhere else, realized he didn't care, and slipped into bed next to Voldemort, turning his back to the other man. Voldemort again rolled over and wrapped his arm over the teen, tugging the unresisting body into his. +Warm…+ he commented.

Harry groaned in approval and pressed back into the warm heat of his ex-enemy. The duo slept peacefully.

~~~ooo~~~

The next few days went by quickly as Harry became acclimated with how things were run in the manor. He'd wake up, usually next to Voldemort and wrapped in his arms, eat, and practice magic. The elder man instructed him deeper into knowledge from previous years and then started touching on what Harry would learn in fifth year. Some of the spells Harry knew were translated into Parseltongue and cast, a form of magic called Parselmagic.

The language of the snakes brought forth a different color to spells and charms. They were stronger and only blocked by a shield cast with parselmagic or by dodging. The teen practiced on some of the more annoying followers of Voldemort.

When he really got a grip on the parselmagic spells, the Death Eaters were terrified, as the magic packed a punch. More often than not, Severus was called in to help heal the followers. Voldemort even considered marking a Healer to assist Severus or capturing some Muggles for his Harry to experiment with, people that could be disposed of once their usefulness has expired.

In the meantime, Harry took a break from parselmagic to learn Apparition alongside Draco Malfoy. While the teens would learn it in school come sixth year, they wouldn't be able to get their licenses through Hogwarts, as they wouldn't be seventeen until the summer following sixth year. Lucius instructed them with all of the Pure Blood ways, none of the ridiculous 'Three R's' the Ministry considered necessary when teaching the students.

Only a week after lessons, Harry was successful in Apparition, while Draco was still struggling not to splinch himself. Harry laughed himself silly as he watched his friend explode when he spotted a chunk of robes sitting at his starting point. Harry, meanwhile, was taken to the Ministry by Lucius, with Harry disguised to look older, and he signed his Apparition license. Harry was ecstatic at the thought of no more side-along Apparition, as it felt worse than moving himself.

Before long, it was the week of Harry's fifteenth birthday. Voldemort had his Inner Circle set up a gathering for his partner. The Inner Circle Death Eaters and their spouses and children would be the only guests. When Voldemort's return was acknowledged by his followers, and the adults heard of the news that Potter only returned once they had left the gathering, they connected the dots that Harry Potter, once the Golden Boy and Savior, had refused the 'Light' to join Voldemort. Thus, they were spelled to secrecy and the Inner Circle and family were aware that Harry Potter was Lord Voldemort's guest. Of course, the children who mused during the school year shared laughs at the adults' expense.

Other groups of Death Eaters, composed of those Voldemort didn't know or trust, didn't know that Harry was the person who was always present around their Lord during meetings. Harry continued to wear his mask and silently cast spells to those few who annoyed him.

Harry's party was scheduled for the night of his birthday; the celebration lasted until early hours of the morning. One of the most memorable things Harry recalled the next afternoon was dancing with his year-mates, the children of the Inner Circle. He had exclaimed to one Blaise Zabini (his mother was really quite neutral, but many of her husbands had favored Voldemort until they died) that it was his first birthday party. The boy had responded, "You're joking, right?"

Harry had pouted and replied, "Why does everyone think I'm joking when I'm not?"

Draco broke in and exclaimed, "You're a jokester; no one can really take you seriously!"

Pansy joined the conversation as she attached to Draco's arm, ignoring the fact he edged away repeatedly. "You're our very own joker, the Death Eater prankster."

"But I'm not joking! And I'm not a Death Eater, Pansy."

His tone had the girl blush and disappear further into the room, much to the relief of Draco. The teen shook his arm out and told Harry, "I'll see you around, not-Death-Eater Joker." He wandered off in the opposite direction of the younger, female Parkinson, leaving Blaise and Harry standing around with only each other for company. "Hmm, the Dark Lord Voldemort and his Joker. It has a certain ring to it, Harry," he mused.

Harry had glared and left his friend; Blaise continued to call Harry 'Joker' through the night. A few of the older guests heard and began to call him that as well. By the time the group had left the manor, Harry's nickname was established: he was the Joker of Lord Voldemort.

Upon hearing the story the next morning, Voldemort chuckled. "The name seems to have stuck, my little Joker," he said teasingly to Harry as they ate breakfast. Harry glared at him and pouted, but continued to eat.

Voldemort had helped him to master Occlumency and parts of Legilimency earlier in the summer and, now that he had Apparition, parselmagic, and his birthday over with, Voldemort decided it was time to teach Harry how to be an Animagus. The teen was quite anxious to learn, as it would result in a quick escape from any situation in which he was stuck.

Their morning started off with meditation, a skill Harry had picked up from Occlumency. Once that was completed, Voldemort instructed Harry to delve into his mind to find the animal that would become Harry's Animagus form. Both were surprised at the revelation of Harry's new body, as a crow wasn't something Voldemort would have aligned with his Joker. Nonetheless, the transformation from human to crow took no time to master, and the teen was soon gliding alongside his friends on wings as they flew on brooms.

More days passed with few, if any, rude interruptions. Harry finally acted his age, while his friends lost their pureblood reserve. Death Eater meetings were sparse, though when they occurred, the men and women bowed to Harry as they did to Voldemort. Instead of calling him, "My Lord," however, they called him, "My Joker." Harry was put out with the nickname, and sighed unhappily when ever he was named. Voldemort was happy to point out that Harry remained anonymous with his unusual name.

Finally, it was a week after Harry turned fifteen. He still shared a bed with Voldemort, but neither seemed to mind; it seemed to be natural to the two males. Narcissa, one of Voldemort's favored accomplices – she was, after all, the Lady Malfoy – burst into their room and cooed cheerfully when she saw their entwined bodies, Voldemort firmly wrapped around Harry.

"Wakey, wakey!" she called out to them, careful to stay away from the bed and the grumpy Voldemort. Harry's head rose into her sight from over the elder man's shoulder, his green eyes blinking sleepily. "I'm taking you shopping as a belated birthday gift," she reminded the boy as he groaned in despair.

Harry eventually rolled out from the blankets, disregarding the moaning Voldemort. "Give me –" He started, pausing to yawn, "ten minutes," he told the woman as he slipped his glasses over his eyes.

"Okay!" Narcissa exclaimed cheerfully, and quickly left the room. It was apparent the Black madness hadn't escaped everyone.

Harry stepped into the connecting bathroom and splashed water into his sleep-logged face, washing away the exhaustion. He combed his growing hair back from his face and covered his scar with expensive Muggle make-up, the best material they could find to disguise the curse scar. Harry stripped from his sleeping pants and into day clothing. The boy relieved himself, washed his hands, and left the bathroom before slipping on the bed next to Voldemort.

The man had already sat up himself, tucking his face into his hands to attempt to rub away his own exhaustion. He moved one of his hands to Harry's head and combed his fingers through the raven hair, letting it lengthen. The multiple colors were saved for when he wore his mask, as that was one of the Joker's features. The man then ghosted his fingertips over Harry's closed eyes – the glasses had been removed – and allowed his magic to act as contacts. Eventually Harry would take a corrective potion, but he needed the glasses to act the part of Harry Potter. Even using regular glass in place of the lenses would be suspicious.

"See you later, if I'm still alive," Harry murmured into the other's ear as he leaned forward and hugged the man farewell.

Voldemort grunted into the teen's shoulder. "You had best be alive," he remarked, "or Wormtail won't get his due punishment."

He pulled back and grinned at the elder man, darting in to kiss Voldemort's cheek in gratitude. He froze briefly at the tingle that spread over his lips, but Harry soon slipped off the bed and ran from the room in slight embarrassment. Voldemort was left alone, a hand pressed over the prickling skin of his cheek, and wondering just why Harry was growing increasingly attractive.

Harry's cheeks were still dusted with his blush as he met Narcissa in the entrance hall. She harrumphed when she saw Harry's clothing, and was delighted that she could shop for him. Her eyes widened as she took in his face though. "You look surprisingly like a Black with your long hair," the woman commented, stretching a hand out to run her fingers through Harry's black locks.

The blush darkened over his cheekbones and Narcissa grinned. "You must learn how to take a compliment, Harry. May I call you Harry?" He nodded jerkily, quiet before the energetic woman. Harry wondered just what was different with her, from the reserved woman at the Quidditch World Cup, to the one before him. "Wonderful; however, you'll need a pseudonym for the Alley, or people will suspect that I captured you from those horrid Muggles. Do you have any particular name you like?" she questioned him as she walked from the manor. Narcissa wasn't keyed to side-along Apparate from the manor, and it would be suspicious if a fifteen-year-old boy arrived on his own.

"None come to mind," Harry told the woman.

She mused silently for a moment. "I'll call you Lycoris in that case; he was one of my cousin's granduncles and has since passed away."

"Okay," he responded as they finally passed the edge of the wards. Narcissa gripped tightly to his shoulder and spun away.

Harry stumbled on his landing, feeling slightly queasy at the edges. Oh, he loathed side-along Apparition. Narcissa momentarily steadied him before clutching Harry's arm in her own and waltzing off down the streets. The first store they entered was a formal robe shop; Harry stood, nearly starker, as the working witch flicked yards of clothing along his body. The woman ignored the scars littering his body with ease borne of experience. Within the hour, he had robes designed, Narcissa going over them with sharp eyes to the quality. They were to be mailed to the Malfoy manor, as that was where Lycoris was supposedly staying.

The next stop was an everyday robe store, where Narcissa handed the workers Harry's size list from the previous fitting. They only stayed long enough to pick out a few styles and order multiple colors of each. The final clothing store was for under-robe clothing. Harry appraised the racks of styles and colors with dread, as there were so many choices. Luckily, they still had the size cheat-sheet, so Narcissa handed another copy off and brushed through the aisles, picking up and discarding what she judged to be worthy and unworthy of the Joker.

The woman sent Harry into a dressing room to change into clothing that actually was his. Harry looked much better in his own clothing than even in her Lord's. Narcissa hummed happily as she examined the teen, occasionally tucking an errant piece of hair behind one ear. "Very nice," she commented.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, to her disapproval. She glared lightly at Harry, who responded, "Thank you very much, Aunt Narcissa."

"You are welcome, Lycoris." Harry schooled his features blank at the unfamiliar name and casually followed the Lady Malfoy from the store once their order was placed and purchased. "Our last stop is a new wand for you, Lycoris. Your other wand is just too easily traced. As well, it is always best to have one wand for now, and another as an unseen advantage."

"What about school supplies?" he wondered aloud.

Narcissa glanced over her shoulder a few times before remarking, "You'll get those later with your cousin. I'm sure you're worn out from all the shopping."

Harry nodded empathetically, bringing a smile to the woman's expressionless face. "Very well. Follow me," she ordered dropping off in a small side alley, pulling up the hood of her cloak as she did so. Their way twisted and turned until Harry found himself in a familiar setting – Knockturn Alley.

Harry froze, causing Narcissa to turn her head. A curl of platinum blonde hair fell out from under her hood; the woman sighed and held her arm out to Harry, who gratefully took the offered hand in his own. She led him to a sketchy shop, its window display covered with grime and questionable fluids. The Malfoy woman pushed open the front door with one finger, wiping it off on a handkerchief once they were inside.

The woman perched at the counter was busy wiping a gleaming wand with a surprisingly clean rag. The inside of the store was definitely nicer, Harry decided as his eyes swept around. Narcissa dropped her hood as she approached the crone, Harry mimicking her from behind. Narcissa gestured for Harry to stand next to her and to place his hands on the counter. He hissed as something jabbed one of his fingers, swiftly removing a droplet of blood.

The hag glanced up from her work then, gnarled hands setting aside the wand and cloth. "Second wand?" she questioned Narcissa, though dark eyes peered from under wrinkly lids at Harry.

"Yes, ma'am," the woman replied politely, stepping back and settling in the sole chair.

"Follow," the lady ordered Harry. The teen hesitantly stepped after the woman as she led the way to the back of her store, which was filled with shelves and shelves of wands and other magical oddities. Harry's eyes widened as he looked around the place, but he was soon distracted as he felt bony fingers at his sleeve, where his wand was hidden.

Harry hissed something rude in Parseltongue as he jumped away, one hand gripping his wand handle firmly.

"Oh, hush, Child. I'm only to assess what wand you have, and see if anything needs changed for the second."

He watched her warily, but eventually stretched out his hand, wand clasped loosely between his fingers.

The woman grabbed it and his wrist, tugging Harry to her. Harry was surprised to have to tilt his head down to stare her in the eyes. Harry was short, which was no surprise from his childhood, but the crone was even smaller; that, however, could have been attributed to her hunched back.

Her crinkled eyes parted with her shock and joy. "Oh, I have Joker! That will show Ollivander that the better customers come to me! He should know better than to allow the ministry to cast tracers!"

Harry felt anxiety rush through his body to leave the store, but the woman was busy running her fingers up and down his holly wand while staring up into his eyes. "Holly and phoenix?" she asked, receiving a nod in response. The woman snorted. "That old man should know better than to put two symbols of renewal together; that's asking for trouble. Now, let's see here."

She slipped the wand from Harry's palm and held the hand up to her eyes, examining the lines in the candlelight of the shop. "What day and month were you born?" she questioned while pushing his right sleeve up his arm.

"July thirty-first, why?"

The woman ignored him, tapping her fingers across the long scar on his arm instead. She eventually dropped Harry's arm and walked to a thin booklet; the crone placed his wand on a scale and hummed as the weight evened out. "Your new wand definitely won't be holly or phoenix again," she told Harry as she flipped through the thin pages. There were obviously more sheets of paper than his eyes could perceive.

"Why?"

She turned her head and grinned, displaying holes from missing teeth; what was left was surprisingly white and bright against the dark skin. "It is unnecessary for a wizard or witch to have a wand for their specific birth period; that is borderline obsessive on the older myths relating to the gods and wandlore. Also, I assume you have no care for helping others rest in death, or to sleep? This new identity is your rebirth, perhaps. I am positive you don't wish to enact physical violence for your old identity; you wish for magical or emotional vengeance, for that has been bestowed upon you. Holly has certainly not helped you ward away negative spirits, nor has it made you a warrior. You are definitely now finding your balance, especially since you have decided to change yourself.

"Your alliance with phoenixes has changed your psyche for the worse; I can see the little trust you have in the creatures, and as such you do not believe your wand will do all you trust it to perform. As well, your scars would have disappeared with a touch of your wand if it was really the correct core for you."

Harry could barely mask his astonishment at these revelations; he didn't know the properties of his wand, but he could tell that they no longer suited him. Maybe they did when he was eleven, but not anymore. He eyed the witch; she had the pages flipping under her pruned fingertips, even as she spoke about his wand.

"As the Joker, you seem to be more difficult to come to harm. Even here, alone in my shop, I have heard tales of the Dark Lord's new partner –" she looked him up and down, "– and partner you shall be, in more ways than just allies."

Harry was clueless to the witch's last phrase – was she insinuating more would happen between him and Voldemort? He couldn't help the small flush that spread over his cheekbones, half pleasure at the idea, and the rest embarrassment that she had been the one to tell him. Harry could have figured that out without help!

The crone smiled at him, her wizened lips tight over her teeth. "I see you understand, then," she commented, before redirecting her attention to the booklet underneath her fingers. The pages flipped faster and faster until she stopped at one section and ran her pinky finger under it. "This is good," she murmured. The woman disappeared behind a few shelves, leaving Harry standing curious.

Minutes passed and Harry shifted his weight numerous times between his feet. The booklet on the table was practically begging for his attention so, with a quick glance around to check for the woman, he stepped up and lowered his eyes to read. Harry glared when he found the pages were written in a language not English. A hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, much to the old witch's amusement.

"I see you have discovered the problem; this is why only I can help you in this shop: my sometimes assistant has yet to learn the language, as she does not have the patience to attempt it." Her arms rose and displayed two blocks of wood, one in each hand. The wood in her left hand was pale in color, while the one on her right was a light, warm brown. "Self enlightenment or truth?" she asked him.

"Truth," Harry replied, almost hesitantly.

The crone nodded and let the darker wood slip into a pocket of her worn clothing. "Your wand wood is vine. Unlike holly, this wood will fit you better, and will remain with you as you continue to grow. It enables prophecies, one of which I see around you."

Cluelessness and the touches of anger surrounded Harry. There was a prophecy about him, and no one had seen fit to tell him. What did that say about the other's trust in Harry? He shook his head to dispel the thoughts as the woman continued speaking. Little did Harry know, he would find out about the prophecy in its entirety in under a year's time, and he would not be happy with what was revealed.

"The truth obviously means a lot to you, which was the final determining factor for your wand wood. A negative, yet powerful, emotion that will develop or continue to grow within you is wrath, intended for enemies and those who have wronged you. Your new identity brings about the idea of rebirth, as Harry Potter disappears into the Dark Lord's Joker. There are other properties, but you are anxious to return to the actual wand rather than be bored by logic."

Harry flushed again as his thoughts were read by the hag. He really wanted to return to what he called home now, as he was anxious to see what Voldemort thought of his new wand. "Come," the woman spoke, her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. She led Harry through her workspace until they came to a row of boxes, each marked with a sliver of pale wood. "These are wands made of vinewood; it is easier to determine the core from your own magic, rather than relying on who you are. Slowly move your hands over them until you come across those that send a tingle against your skin," she instructed.

He hesitated momentarily before lifting his hands and laying them to rest over the first box. Nothing happened, so he sent his hands moving to the right, slowly, carefully. His eyelids slid shut. He paused as something pushed against his palms and dropped one to pull the box a little ways out of its slot. Harry continued on, his magic choosing wands at random. The tingles varied in strength: some were strong and managed to pull Harry's hands straight to the box, while others were so weak as to be barely felt; regardless, Harry chose every wand that called to him.

Eventually the woman gently placed her aged hands on Harry's hands and his emerald eyes were slowly revealed once more. He was surprised to see only a few wands pulled from their slots on the shelves; he had been expecting more than seven, with the amount of times his hands tingled.

"And again," she told him softly. "Choose the strongest."

Harry felt as if he fell into a trance as his hands moved over the seven wands before him. He had yet to see anything but their boxes, but Harry knew one of the cases held the wand that would be best suited for him.

The hag watched as he passed his hands over each of the boxes multiple times; each movement brought a reaction from his magic, which she could see. Finally she set her hands on his shoulders one more, while she eyed the three more powerful wands. She pointed them out to the Joker and he finally settled on one, his fingers and magic itching to pick up the hidden wand.

Harry slid it from its box and moaned aloud as powerful magic swam through the air – his magic bonding with the elements in the wand. He opened his eyes, for they had closed with the rush of power, and stared down at the silvery sparks flooding from the tip of the vinewood.

The hag hummed as she replaced the remaining six wands. "Faerie wings in the core, very good for you. They are helpful with vengeance and hiding one's true self from non-noble eyes." The woman ushered Harry back to the front of the store, and to Narcissa. "You are done, my Lord," she mumbled to Harry.

"How much?" Narcissa asked, coming to stand by Harry on the opposite side of the counter, while pulling a moneybag out from her robes.

The lady scoffed. "Nothing, for this is the Joker, our Lord's own! For him, nothing. Now leave," she told the surprised duo, shooing them from her store.

"Well, Lycoris, I suppose we should return to the manor," Narcissa told the boy. She gestured for him to step into a darkened corner before the storefront and Harry Disapparated, soon followed by the blonde Malfoy.

Harry thanked the woman before returning to his and Voldemort's rooms, where he found the man pouring over paperwork. "Harry," the man commented when he glanced up.

"Hello Voldemort," Harry murmured before entering the bedroom and depositing the books and such by the wardrobe. He returned to the main room and stood momentarily by the man before Voldemort leaned back in his chair. Harry smiled and sat himself on the offered lap, curling an arm around Voldemort's neck while the man's arms went around his back.

"Pretty," Voldemort told Harry when the Joker showed off his new wand.

"Mine," Harry countered.

He smirked. "Indeed; it is no longer a brother wand to my own."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, tipping his head birdlike to the side, one of the traits of his Animagus form.

"Our wands share a core, making them brother wands. Do you not recall that from Ollivander, when you first purchased your wand?" Voldemort reminded Harry.

The teen slowly nodded his head as he faintly remembered what the eccentric old man had told him.

"When the wands connect a spell, it performs Priori Incantatem, and can let out the spirits of the souls murdered by either wand. I'm sure that's what Dumbledore had in mind when he found out our wands shared a core, especially since that could be used to harm either of us."

Harry remained quiet as he contemplated this new knowledge, eventually sighing and settling firmly against Voldemort. "Now that can't happen; I don't like using the old wand now that I have my new one. It's unfortunate that I will have to when I return to Hogwarts. Unless," he mused.

Voldemort laughed. "No, you must go back unless you want to be found out."

Harry pouted. "Can't we just be happy without pleasing the old man? I really do not want to go back."

He shook his head and pulled Harry closer to his body. "I'm sorry, my Joker, but you must return. You can always come back for break, or leave whenever you please and Obliviate those who find you missing."

Harry nodded. "Maybe I'll find that charm easier now that I have my new wand. I think it helps me to cast spells, even though I really only used it once. Let's experiment!" Harry exclaimed, jumping off of the man's lap and heading towards the exit of their rooms.

Voldemort shook his head at his Joker's obvious amusement and followed the teen to the dueling chambers located a few floors down from the bedroom. There were a few of the inner circle present, but Harry ignored them in favor of casting charms and spells at one of the fighting dummies. Voldemort watched from the entrance as Harry's features relaxed at the ease with which his magic flowed through the new wand. His spells were more powerful, soon ripping the dummy into irreparable pieces of fabric. Harry started on another, using parselmagic, which was also stronger. The dummy was destroyed in seconds, reducing Harry into a bouncing pile of excitement. He nearly danced his way to Voldemort, stretching up to press a kiss to the man's cheek. "Much better!" he exclaimed, ignoring the slightly surprised glances the Death Eaters exchanged at the affection.

"Agreed," Voldemort commented, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist and leading him from the dueling chambers. Both wondered but ignored the niggling feeling that they should talk about why exactly this touching felt nice and comforting.

"Aunty should be reimbursed for all the clothing she bought me," Harry commented as they made their way to the dining hall. Having skipped lunch, he was hungry.

Voldemort raised one eyebrow. "Is that so?" he questioned the Joker.

Harry nodded empathetically. "Yes, most definitely."

"Aunty?"

"Yep!" Harry grinned. "My name is also Lycoris Black, a nephew from her side of the family."

Voldemort settled into a chair, snapping his fingers for a house elf to bring supper. The Malfoys soon joined the couple; Harry greeted the missus with an ecstatic call of, "Aunty!"

Narcissa smiled at the teen and pressed her lips to his forehead, relaxing pureblood protocol. "Hello, Lycoris dear," she returned, sitting on Harry's other side.

Draco and Lucius exchanged puzzled expressions while Voldemort sighed and took a sip of his iced water.

"Shopping trip," Harry explained briefly before digging into his meal with pureblood mannerisms taught by the Malfoys.

"And how is your new wand?" Narcissa wanted to know some time later.

"Wonderful!" Harry told her, but didn't explain how exactly it was better than his old one.

~~~ooo~~~

A week later brought the return of Harry's Hogwarts letter, much to the teen's displeasure. As promised, Narcissa took Harry along with Draco to buy the school year's collection of books and miscellaneous objects. Harry was once again called Lycoris Black, earning the trio a few odd looks by the general public as they went through the alleys.

A familiar voice calling his new name brought Harry to turn to face the person. "Luna!" he exclaimed, hugging the girl to his chest in excitement. The Blacks were always considered an odd pureblood family with little regard to traditional rules, so this breach of conduct wasn't frowned upon.

"Hello Luna," Draco commented to the blonde, only to turn to a small squeak of surprise as Luna wrapped her arms around his neck.

Narcissa held her smile back with ease, and said, "Introduce me to your friend, Lycoris, Draco."

"Luna Lovegood," Harry told his aunt. "Her father prints the Quibbler."

The missus nodded politely, though she personally didn't believe anything that magazine printed. "Let's finish the shopping, and then we can retire to the mansion."

Luna brightened. "I have wanted to meet Lycoris's partner for some time now, so I suppose I can finish with you!"

Draco laughed as Harry flushed at Luna's barely there implication. Narcissa smiled gently at the Joker and gestured for the newly formed trio to follow her to the final stores. After buying quills, inkpots, and parchment, a variety of potions materials, and what was required for other classes, they finished with the bookstore. Each student gathered that year's load of books and concluded their stack with some to read in free time or to add to the Dark Lord's forever expanding library.

Patrons of Diagon Alley watched with mixed emotions as the three youngsters laughed and giggled through their shopping. Some were surprised Draco Malfoy, of all people, was relaxed and without pureblood etiquette, especially as his mother followed closely behind. Others wondered why Luna Lovegood was found conversing with some of the most elite of the Wizarding world. The rest held curiosity about the last child, the one who looked the part of a Black, and acted that way too.

Finally Narcissa Apparated away with Luna, while Harry and Draco popped from the alley, hidden from detection behind a store. House elves appeared to remove the purchased items, which allowed Harry to skip happily through the halls, Luna joining him, once they made their gratitude known to Narcissa and exchanged farewells with Draco.

"Hey Voldemort! This is Luna Lovegood; we rode on the carriages together. Luna, this is Lord Voldemort," Harry said brightly upon entrance to their rooms.

Voldemort's head rose from where it was bent over paperwork, an eyebrow rising as he looked at the crazy eyed girl. "Pleased," he returned cordially before concentrating on the parchment once more.

Harry watched, amused, as Luna frowned and made her way to the man's side, to dip her face to his ear and whisper something that made Voldemort's features narrow with unreadable emotions. He replied, equally quiet, with words that made Luna grin and bounce back to Harry's side after a pat to Voldemort's shoulder. "Bye, Harry," Luna told him as she ran passed him.

Voldemort was puzzled. "Where exactly is she going to go now?"

Harry shrugged. "She's Luna. We don't question it. So, what did she say?"

"That you would find out what I had to say within the week," was all the man commented.

He pouted in return and left the room, ignoring the faint sounds of protest Voldemort made. Harry slowly made his way through the manor, picking up odds and ends that he had placed in random spots. He decided in some far off part of his mind to begin the packing process, even though the train didn't come until the end of the week.

And that week flew by, with Harry playing Quidditch with his friends for the last time, talking with and torturing Death Eaters, planning raids that would happen over the school year, and thinking about the next time he would see his bed mate. The last night, the thirty-first of August, found a depressed Harry Potter reclined in bed, his body draped over the Dark Lord's. His ear pressed against the man's thin, bare chest, listening to the soothing heartbeat and the echo of the man's voice as they talked out last minute plans. Eventually Harry was soothed to sleep, his hands clenched in the sheets on either side of their bodies.

Voldemort glanced down to the teen and smiled softly, carding his fingers in the boy's hair before pressing his lips to the multicolored strands and falling asleep too.

They woke early, Nagini's hissing alerting the duo to the fact the train left in a few hours. Breakfast was a quiet affair, Harry taking the seat next to Voldemort and holding his hand under the table. Really, Harry did not want to return to the hero-worship back at Hogwarts; he liked being the Dark Lord's Joker, for it was a personality all his own, rather than one crafted by the adoring public.

Voldemort himself took Harry to the platform, charming Harry's trunk small and handing it to the teen before leaving. He side-along Apparated Harry to a darkened corner on the platform and held the teen until the warning whistles sounded.

"I suppose this is it," Harry said as he pulled back, plastering a tight smile to his disheartened face. His fingers ran over the holly and phoenix feather wand as his magic remembered the power his vinewood wand held.

The Dark Lord, his distinctive features hidden behind parselmagic glamour, smirked down at Harry and tugged him closer for a last hug. "You can Apparate or fly to me if you ever need anything," he reminded the teen.

Harry grinned, and at long last it was a real smile versus one of the fake ones he had held for most of the day. "I suppose this is true," he amended, eyes staring into Voldemort's. He thought about something for a second, and decided to go for it, using his Gryffindor bravery. He lunged to his tiptoes and pressed his lips against Voldemort's. Harry's eyes drifted shut at the brief touch before he fell back, turning toward the train with a smirk gracing his features. Harry froze when he felt the man's hand on his shoulders, only to laugh with delight as the man pulled him back against his body and kissed him again, just an innocent, second kiss between two people.

"Visit when possible," the man murmured a bit later, his hand carding through Harry's shortened, single color locks.

"Just be there," Harry reminded Voldemort before finally dragging himself away to find his friends, a bounce in his step.

Voldemort watched from his shadowed spot as his Joker found and greeted the boisterous Weasley family, including tagalongs, and scratched the head of a large black dog. He nodded to the boy as Harry searched for him once he boarded the train, and finally Disapparated as the train left the station.

* * *

**Why is Harry's Animagus form a crow?** In mythology, crows are symbolic for the aspect of death and the transition of the spirit into the afterlife. The crows bring back those who have wronged. With Harry siding with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, it is understandable that he himself becomes symbolic of death, especially later in the Vinewood series. The Death Eaters and the crow fit together nicely, as crows eat carrion rather than fresh meat, which can be taken as a pun on Voldemort's followers. Many people have wronged Harry in his life, which plays into Greek mythology, when the god Apollo turns the white crow's feathers to black in his rage over his lover's infidelity.

**Who is Lycoris Black?** Lycoris Black is Sirius's paternal granduncle, brother to his grandfather. He lived in the years 1904-1965. The information found is from the HP-Lexicon.


End file.
